Untruths of Time
by S.Hagen
Summary: A story set in the Exalted Game World
1. The Child and the Tiger

Ivory woke with a scream that quickly turned to a whimper as she put her hands over her mouth. In her chest her heart beat, like a frantic bird, and it sounded loud in her ears. Her eyes moved back and forth as she looked about the small cave in which she sheltered.

"You need not fear," a rumbling voice said from her side, "there is nothing near that will seek you out."

"I'm sorry."

"You do not need to apologise to me Ivory."

"I had that dream again Hu."

"Do you remember it?" Hu asked her.

She shook her head and moved closer to him, pressing up against him, feeling this thick, soft fur.

"Before you woke, I heard you call out for your mother," he told her.

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"I wish I could remember."

"Give it time," he told her, his breath ruffling her hair.

Ivory leaned up against Hu's side, his fur warm in the cool air of the wooden cave of tree roots. She could not get back to sleep. She was too anxious and too frightened that she might dream again. So she stayed awake, waiting for the sun to rise.

In the predawn light the darkness faded, and the world was washed out in gray. Above her she could see the exposed roots of the tree she sheltered beneath. The river below her was still dark, but she caught a flash of silvery grey as a trout leapt from the water to snap at some insect. Above her she heard the whistles of the bats as they returned to their home in the crown of the tree.

As the sun rose truly colour began to fade into the forest. The rich browns of tree trunks, greens of undergrowth, broken by the occasional splashes of white, and pink and blue of wild flowers. The river sparkled, deep blue, broken by the white of ripples and splashes.

In her shelter, the roots of a massive tree--the dirt that had once surrounded them washed away by a flooding river long ago--Ivory shifted away from Hu, the morning already warming up.

Ivory was a girl, perhaps a year or two away from her adolescence. She was slight; there was something fragile seeming about her. Her skin, where it showed through the dirt, was pale. Her hair, tangled and dirty, was a dark, deep red. And her eyes were golden. The short, dark pink kimono she wore had seen better days, being both stained and tattered.

Her companion, Hu, was a tiger, large even for the great cats. His fur was a golden red, striped with a deep black.

Ivory shifted around, pulling her knees up to her chest. She looked down at the river as it flowed by, staring at the sun light reflected in it.

"It's time to move on," Hu said.

Ivory was never certain if she really heard Hu talk, or if it was just in her head. She sometimes wondered if he could speak to others. "I don't want to," she told him.

"You are a chosen of the Sun." His tone of voice or thought bordered on harsh. "You can't hide away."

Ivory pulled her knees up tighter against her chest, hunched down. She sniffed back tears. It was on her lips to say, 'I didn't wanta be,' but she said nothing. It did not matter what she wanted.

It never really had.

Hu made a sound between a growl and a sigh, got up, and padded out from beneath the tree, passing through a gap in the cage of roots. A moment later he was leaping up the river bank, and then he was gone from sight.

Ivory sat where she was for a while, trying to feel sorry for herself, trying to work up what her nurse had used to call an 'Epic Sulk and tantrum', but it was not in her.

And she had to pee.

She scrambled out of the small cave and climbed the bank. She walked some distance away, not particularly worried, certain that Hu would be watching out for danger. Most of the trees were not particularly old, nor tall, and did not block out the sunlight, so the forest undergrowth was thick. It sometimes made walking difficult and thorns would scratch her bare legs, or tear at the hem of her kimono.

As she squatted down to relieve herself, pulling her long, matted hair over her shoulder so it was out of the way, she wished, not for the first time in the past several weeks, that she was home. One of the maids would wake her, to help her bathe and get dressed before going off for her breakfast and then lessons.

It had been a long time since she had had a proper bath, as the dirt that covered her could attest to.

After returning to the river she washed her hands as well as she could, then began walking upstream. Along the way she picked berries off bushes for her breakfast. A patch of mushrooms tempted her, but she left them lest they prove poisonous. Hu could probably tell her if they were good, but he was making himself scarce.

She'd save the mushrooms for lunch, if they were safe, she decided.

Some distance from where her root cave was Ivory came to a large waterfall. The water came off a cliff, nearly ten times her height, splashing down into a shallow bed of fine sand and large boulders. She took off her kimono, and the once white under kimono, and laid them on a stone. Naked, she moved out into the river.

The water was cool, but she found a deep pool, where the water was partially trapped by several boulders, which was warmer. She sank into it up to her neck and then picked up handfuls of sand from the river bed and used it to scrub at her skin.

It took a while to get reasonably clean, and her skin was pink from the abrasive sand. Dunking her head beneath the water she did what she could to clean her hair. In the end she got it fairly clean, but it was even more tangled then before. For at time she tried pulling at the tangles, but it was painful and frustrating and she gave up in tears.

As she splashed over to where her clothing was she found Hu lying on his back on a rock, basking in the sun. She grabbed her kimono and then moved back into the water, dunking the material into the water to try to clean it.

Her experience with washing was restricted to mostly watching servants do it; and she had found that so dull she had never watched for long.

She tried wringing things out, which worked somewhat. Then she tried rubbing it on a stone and that only wore a hole in it.

"I hate this," she said, slapping the under kimono hard on the rock.

"You are somewhat helpless at it," Hu agreed.

Turning, she glared angrily at him. His eyes were closed. "Lota help you are." She frowned.

"There is a village with an Inn only a few hours away," he told her. "You have money. You can sleep in a real bed, have a real bath, and get new clothing."

Ivory turned away from him, dunking the clothing back under water, swishing it back and forth in hopes that it would get cleaner. She was, she knew, frightened. She did not want to be with people, did not want to see hate and fear in their eyes.

Hu had told her that she need not worry, that she could easily hide her nature. It was true, but she was still afraid. It was strange that she felt that way, and she did not really understand it. Only one person had seen her for what she had become, and Gazan was a horrible person. But still, when he had called her anathema, when she had seen that look of horror and revulsion on his face, that had torn at her.

She padded back to the bank and hung her clothing to dry on some bushes. Then she sat on a sun warmed rock not far from Hu.

"Alright, we'll go to the village," she said.

He opened his large, golden brown eyes. "Don't worry," he told her, his tone kind.

* * *

Vinleau was a day's travel west along the river from Great Forks. Built on a hilly region, close to the river were the flooded fields where rice was grown. Higher up were fields of grains and corn. Above the village were the orchards and vineyards. The buildings were mostly two stories tall, with stone bases, low brick walls, and then wood.

On one of the highest hills was a grand building of stone, a monastery, a brewery, a distillery, and a winery. The structure was dedicated to Burning Feather, Lady of Intoxicants, a shrine in its own way. The monks, a group of master brewers, distillers and vintners, sought to create the best intoxicants they were capable of, in honour of their mistress.

Once a season the monks brought their wares down to the village market, and merchants from as far away as Greyfalls would come to buy. Once a year the monks held a martial arts tournament, for many of the brotherhood were skilled in the fighting arts, especially the style known as the Orgiastic Fugitive Style.

The Inn in Vinleau was much larger than what was usually found in villages of its size. It was five stories tall, with a number of additions, side buildings that made it sprawl. It was built on the edge of the village, to provide it room to expand.

Above the front door hung a sign that depicted a foaming mug of beer wrapped with a thorn vine, and written under the mug, in river speak, were the words 'The Barley and the Briar'.

Ivory walked along the road, approaching the town from the side closest to the Inn. Hu had scouted it for her, told her how everything was laid out. She wanted to avoid as many people as possible. For all that Hu had assured her that she need not fear, she could not help it.

The tiger was not with her, but Ivory knew he was close. He would show up if she needed help. He had killed to protect her several times already during her dangerous journey.

A few people took notice of her, but it seemed to be more curiosity than anything else.

The roads that led into the village were covered in crushed rock, small enough that they did not hurt her bare feet too much--she had lost her sandals long before. Past the stable, the area directly in front of the Inn was covered in flag stones, swept clean and smooth. She stopped on the threshold, then took a deep breath and entered.

It was bright within, large windows let in the late afternoon sunlight, clean, tables and chairs neatly ordered. A young woman in a simple, dark blue dress, her hair wrapped in a gray scarf, was sweeping the wood floor. There was a long counter along the far wall, behind it stood an older woman, looking through a ledger of some sort.

Ivory walked across the floor, hoping that her feet were not leaving any dirt prints, and came to a stop in front of the counter. The woman's clothing was simple, but obviously well made. She had short, dark blonde hair, her face was round, her cheeks red.

"Excuse me," Ivory said.

The woman looked up from the ledger and smiled. "Hello there," she said. Her river speak had an accent to it that Ivory had heard before, and found easy enough to understand, but had not been able to reproduce. "How can I help you?"

Ivory reached into the sleeve of her kimono and took out four jade bits. Her mother had given her money for the Imperial City. Ivory could almost hear her voice as she remembered, 'If you want anything, buy it yourself. Don't ask for presents, it's not polite.' She knew that the jade bits were valuable, and even more so out in the Threshold. Perhaps she should have only put one out at first, but she did not want to appear cheap. Her mother had always told her it was better to be over generous than under.

'I would like a room, for several days,' Ivory said as she reached out and put the bits on the counter. "Food too, and some clothing, and a bath," she said it all quickly, trying to sound certain. Then she added, "I'm waiting for friends," she said, thinking it best the woman think there was someone coming for her.

The woman looked at the bits on the counter. She reached up to brush an errant lock of hair from her eyes, then picked up one of the bits.

"Where did you get these child?" she asked, kindly enough, but Ivory immediately knew that the woman thought she had stolen it.

"It's mine," she said. "I was given it, if I needed something."

The woman seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then, as if coming to a decision, nodded. "Well, you look honest enough," and her smile widened. "My name is Maddie Briar, what's yours?" She swept the jade bits into her hand and then put them into a pocket in her dress.

"Ivory."

"Well Ivory, please come with me and I'll see about getting you everything you asked for." As she walked out from behind the counter she called to the woman sweeping the floor, "Mio, go tell Jek to make sure the bath boilers are fired up, and then go to cupboard and get the styling bag and put in the bathing room."

Maddie, Ivory noted, was not fat, but there was a rounded quality to her. Her face, her limbs, her body, all slightly rounded. Maddie was, she decided, pretty.

"Yes Miss Briar," Mio said, dropping into a shallow curtsey before putting her broom aside and running off.

"This way Ivory," Maddie said, and walked through a door beside the counter and into the back of the Inn.

Ivory followed her, out of the common room, past what was probably the kitchen, and then up three flights of stairs. Maddie took a ring of keys from her belt, sorted through them, removed one from the ring, and then unlocked the door. "Here you go," she said, standing aside so that Ivory might enter.

The room she had been shown to was quite large, with big windows that let the light in, and curtains that could be pulled to cover them. The floor was polished wood, covered with a large rug. There was a four poster, canopied bed, a wardrobe, chairs, a vanity with mirror, a table, a fireplace, all of it well made. There were two doors in the room as well.

Maddie pointed at one of the doors and said, "That's leads into the wash room. The other one is a servant's room, if you had a servant."

"Thank you."

Maddie nodded. "If you need anything, please ask. You can come down to the common room if you are hungry, but we only serve three real meals, and only at set times I'm afraid."

Ivory nodded.

"Well, if you will pardon me. I'll have someone come up and show you to the baths once they are ready."

"Thank you."

"Your key." Maddie held out the key she had used to unlock the door.

Ivory took it.

Smiling again, Maddie turned and left.

"See, nothing to worry about," Ivory heard Hu say from behind her. "You have already charmed her."

Ivory turned to see Hu lying on the bed. It said something about the size of the bed that the tiger did not make it look small. "I guess."

She walked over to the bed and reached into her kimono, pulling out a small pouch. It was heavy with jade, mostly obols. There were a number of possible hiding spots in the room, but she ended up putting it under the mattress in the small room that was meant for a servant.

She walked back into the main room and over to the bed. Hu watched her. "This will be a good place to rest," he said.

Ivory nodded as she continued to look about the room, opening drawers and looking under furniture.

A few minutes later there was a knock on her door.

Knowing that Hu would be hidden before anyone could see him Ivory opened the door without concern. It was Maddie. "Your bath is ready," she said.

"Thank you," Ivory stepped out of her room.

"Don't forget to lock your door."

After locking the door Ivory followed Maddie back down to the first floor. Instead of returning to the common room they went to the back of the inn, to a room with a slate floor on which large, copper tubs sat. Pipes led to each tub, and the room was warm. One of the tubs was already full of steaming water.

Maddie pulled a privacy screen around the tub and then helped Ivory get undressed.

Though she had done her best to get herself clean that morning, it was not long after she had got in the tub that the water took on a grey tint. Maddie had her get out of the tub, giving her a thick towel to wrap around herself, and then drained the tub. She filled it again, adding some oils and soap to the water. "Back in," she said.

This time the water stayed mostly clear, though it was full of soap. Maddie put some soap on a cloth and used it to scrub Ivory's back, her neck, and even behind her ears.

"Do you usually help people in the bath?" Ivory asked, curious.

"Not often," Maddie said, and laughed, "but you looked like you could use a little help. I couldn't be sure that a girl with that much dirt on her knew how to wash up."

Ivory was not sure if Maddie was teasing or not. None of the maids from home had ever teased her like that. Sometimes her nanny had, she recalled. But nannies were allowed certain liberties, she had long ago decided.

"Let's drain the tub once more and then I'll see if I can make that bird nest on your head to look neat." She picked up the towel and held it out for Ivory.

When the tub was once more full of water and Ivory in it, Maddie used a dipper to pour hot water over Ivory's hair. She then washed it three times with a soap that smelled of mint before working a thick, floral smelling cream into it. With a comb she set about working the tangles out of the hair. It hurt, sometimes, but Ivory just sat in the cooling water and did not complain. Well, not too much.

"As much as I thought it impossible," Maddie said as she ran the comb through Ivory's tangle free hair, "it seems there was a pretty girl under all that dirt. Bless Burning Feather for a wonderful miracle.

Certain now that Maddie was teasing Ivory laughed.

Maddie gave her a fresh towel to dry herself with, while Maddie herself carefully dried Ivory's hair. "Don't want to get it all tangled again."

There was a change of clothing waiting for her by the door. Nothing fancy, but it was all well made. There were undergarments, cotton stockings, a red skirt that went down below her knees, and was only a little too big, a white blouse with floral needlework up the front, and a pair of soft, leather shoes.

"That looks like it all fits well enough," Maddie commented.

Ivory nodded as she did up the last buttons.

"What about these?" Maddie held up the clothing that Ivory had been wearing earlier.

"I don't know," Ivory said.

"How about I see if we can get them cleaned up and perhaps repaired? If not, well, maybe we could have a nice blouse or something made from them. It is very beautiful material.

"Okay," Ivory said, though she really did not care about the clothes. It seemed Maddie did, and it would have been rude to ignore her suggestions.

"Let get you something to eat then," Maddie said as she folded up the kimono.

* * *

It was dark when one of the maids--not that they were really maids as Ivory thought of them--an older woman named Bea, showed Ivory back to her room. She lit a lamp, and several candles, warned Ivory to make sure they were all blown out before going to bed, and then left.

Hu padded out from the shadows. "You look much better."

"Thank you," she told him. She noted to door to the wardrobe was open, within had been placed several other pieces of clothing.

"A woman came and put those there," Hu said. "She did not search the room, and locked the door behind her."

Ivory nodded as she took off her clothes and then put on a soft night gown that she found in the wardrobe.

She was suddenly feeling exhausted, the hot bath and full stomach catching up with her all at once. Moving about the room she extinguished the candles and lamp. She crawled up onto the big bed and slipped under the clean covers. The sheets smelt of sunshine and cedar.

The mattress shifted as Hu climbed up on the bed. Ivory's last memory before falling asleep was the tiger lying down by her side.


	2. The Girl at the Inn

The Girl at the Inn part 2

Ivory managed not the scream as she woke from the nightmare, though she could not hide her whimper.

"It's okay," Hu reassured her, a voice in the dark.

Ivory took deep breaths until her heartbeat slowed, then she got up from the bed and went to the washroom to relieve herself. She cleaned up, not really appreciating the hand pump that brought cold water to her room. At home such wonders were both common place and easy to use.

She moved about in her dark room for a bit, and then pushed the curtains back from one of the windows. By the look of the sky it was still some time until dawn. She knelt down, staring up at the starlit sky. Hu came over and sat by her side.

"Do you think it was a dream of the future?" Hu asked her.

He had not asked her such a question since they had first met. She had made it clear then that she had not wanted to speak about it. "Those dreams are usually clearer, and I remember them," Ivory told him.

"Have you dreamed of the future lately?"

Ivory still did not want to talk about it. Were it not for her ability to perceive the possibilities that the future held then she never would have been sent to Gazan. "No," she told him.

Outside the sky began to lighten and the stars faded out. The sun had risen when someone knocked at Ivory's door. It was a soft knocking; it might not have awoken her if she were still sleeping.

It was one of the maids, Ivory remembered her name, Mio. She had seen her the day before sweeping the common room. "Good morning Miss Ivory," she said, smiling pleasantly. "Miss Briar asked me to come up and see if you needed some help with your hair and getting ready."

"Thank you," Ivory said. "Yes," and after a thought she added, "Please." Somehow she did not think that helping guests with their hair were normal duties for the Inn's servants, so it was best to be appreciative.

She took a seat at the vanity and Mio brushed then combed the tangles of the night out of her hair. As she began to braid it she said, "Never seen hair so red before, not that it's not pretty. I hear that the Empress of the Blessed Isle has hair so red it is like fire."

Ivory, who had always been told that her hair colour was a mark of favour agreed, saying, "I've heard that too."

"And your golden eyes, if that does not give someone a start," she said, and laughed softly. "Not that they're not pretty," she added quickly.

Mio finished braiding Ivory's hair, tying the end with a strip of white ribbon. "There we go. Do you need some help getting dressed?"

"No thank you," Ivory told her. While Ivory had often had a maid help her dress, she decided that she did not want to keep Mio away from whatever her real duties were, and the clothing that Ivory would be wearing was not that difficult to put on.

"Alright. Breakfast will be in the common room, you can get it for the next hour or so. Don't be late." She smiled and then left.

After Mio left Ivory took off her night dress, hung it in the wardrobe, climbing in to reach a hook, then got dressed in the same clothing she had worn the day before.

"Enjoy your day," Hu said from the bed.

Ivory did not reply. She locked the door and then went down to the common room for breakfast. There were not too many people there and Ivory took a seat at a table near one of the windows. A young woman 

who Ivory did not know came out and put on the table a bowl of rice, a plate of pickled vegetables, and a bowl with a soup that smelled of fish. "Is there anything else you would like?"

Ivory looked at the food and then asked, "Is there anything sweet?"

She smiled. "We have some sweet buns from the baker. Would you like one?"

"Yes please."

Ivory ate her breakfast, which was very good, and then the sweet bun, which, while not the best thing she had ever eaten, was the best thing she had eaten in some time and so she savoured it.

Licking her fingers clean she left the Inn, curious to look around. The kind way that everyone had treated her so far had made her braver.

There had been a village like Vinleau not too far from where Ivory had lived. She and the other children had often gone to visit, making a nuisance of themselves, knowing that no one would dare to direct any anger at them.

Most of the business buildings were on the main road, their store fronts and signs easily viewable to anyone that might travel through the village. For a time she watched the people working down in the grain fields, and farther down in the rice fields and thought how everyone was busy.

She was circling around a general good store, thinking she wanted to look in at the smithy, when she came face to face with a girl and a boy examining what looked like an empty, wooden cask. The girl was about as old as Ivory, with darker skin, brown eyes, and an off blonde hair colour. Ivory thought that she must come from a family that was fairly well off, for the grey dress she wore looked nice, and her shoes well cared for. The boy had similar colouring to the girl, but wore a pair of dirty pants, a dirty shirt and was barefoot. However, Ivory had often noticed that boys tended to look like that no matter what sort of family they came from.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded, with the authority of someone who lived there.

"Yeah," the boy said, "tell us."

Ivory, knowing the rules, told them, "I'm Ivory. I live at the Inn."

"What? With your parents?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, with your parents?"

The girl lightly slapped the boy in the back of the head. "Don't repeat what I say."

He pouted. "Gonna tell," he said.

"No you're not." And she grabbed him and put his arm behind his back until he cried and promised not to tell. Looking satisfied, the girl returned her attention to Ivory sand said, "Well?"

"Not with my parents," Ivory told her. "I'm alone."

"That's a lie," the girl said. "You'd need money to stat at the Inn."

"Liar!" the boy shouted. Ivory had the sudden urge to slap him and put his arm up behind his back herself.

"I got money," she said. "And I'm living at the Inn. And if you don't believe me why don't you come with me and we'll ask Maddie Briar! And if it's not true, why do I have this?" She held out the key.

Ivory, having said the right name, and held up a token of her story, won the argument, at least as far as she was concerned. All the girl could do now was to go and ask Maddie, and that would make her look even more stupid.

The girl seemed to realise this as well, for she did what Ivory herself would have done had she been in the losing situation, and that was to pretend it had not happened. "Wanna come see the monks clean the wine press?"

"Okay," Ivory said, for she had never seen such a thing.

"I'm Alya, and that's Berg. He's my stupid cousin."

"Am not stupid," he shouted.

"And he stinks too. Don't let him touch you, or you'll stink as well!" And so saying, Alya took off. Ivory, well versed in the art of teasing children younger than herself, and especially boys, took off after Alya, weaving wide around Berg and holding her nose with her fingers.

Berg cried that he was going to get them and chased after them up the hill.

The escape Berg game did not last too long. He quickly began to fall back and started crying out that he was going to tell. Alya gave Ivory one of those, 'what are you going to do' looks and slowed down so her cousin could catch up. Ivory was happy enough to slow down as well so she could look around the orchard they were passing through.

Many of the trees were beginning to blossom, and the smell was wonderful. She could see bees moving around some of the trees, ducking in and out of the blossoms of a plum tree. Farther along the slope were a large grove of apple trees, under which she saw some people working.

"Come on," Alya called to Berg, who was coming up the path slowly.

Berg, looking put upon, lengthened his strides. "It's not fair, you got longer legs."

"And you're supposed to be a boy," Alya said teasingly. "Aren't boys supposed to be stronger?"

"Maybe he's one of the Djala, they're pretty short," Ivory suggested.

"Bet his hair will all fall out soon then," Alya said.

"What's a 'Jala and why's my hair gonna fall out?"

Alya and Ivory looked at each other than then began to laugh.

"What?" Berg obviously wanted to know what the joke was.

"Come on," Alya said, ignoring him, "Mon'stary's at the top of the hill."

As Berg came after, demanding to be told what a Djala was, Alya ignored him with practiced ease and told Ivory a little about the Monastery. "They make wine and beer and stuff," she said, "and cause it's the best everyone comes to buy it."

Ivory nodded and decided not to mention that she had always been told that V'neef wines were the best. She had a suspicion that best was something of a local concept, and it was probably a good idea not to argue it. At least not with something to back her up, like a bottle of V'neef wine, which she was lacking.

"And," Alya was continuing, "the monks get really drunk, and they fight, but not like how you'd think. They fight like 'maculates, and the more they drink the better they fight. My dad says that the abbot could fight better than anyone, as long as he had a lot to drink."

"Uh uh," Berg said, "N'un fights better than Deled Peleps."

Ivory was a little surprised to hear that name, and found herself looking over her shoulder, as if the monk might be behind her, coming after her.

"Don't be stupid. You never ever seen him," Ayla told the boy.

"Pon has."

"Pon's a liar."

"Is not!"

Alya rolled her eyes and said to Ivory, "Berg's family are ref'gees from Thorns. Pon thinks he's gonna be a Dragon Blood and is gonna go and fight the Mask of Winters."

"He is too gonna be a Dragon Blood, and I'm gonna be one too!" Berg shouted.

"Fine, be a Dragon Blood and go and fight Thorns and then you can go and kiss Deled Peleps cause you love him so much!"

Ivory could not help laughing. The thought of Berg kissing Deled was too funny not to; but from all she had heard of the Immaculate she did not think he would be laughing.

Alya began to laugh too, and she reached out and grabbed Ivory's hand. "Come on, we still got to a way to go."

So they climbed the hill laughing, while Berg trailed behind, making statements about what he was going to do when he was blessed by the dragons. Ivory, who had played with children, dynasts and patricians, had heard such boasts before. She might have felt sorry for Berg, but it was easier to laugh at him, especially with Alya laughing with her.

By the time they reached the top of the hill Alya was out of breath, and not laughing, and Berg was out of breath and not boasting about becoming a Terrestrial. Ivory was not out of breath but saw no harm in pretending that she was. And the monastery was occupying her attention.

It was a large building of stone, four stories tall, but there were several towers that were half again as tall as that, not counting the conical roof tops and spires. It was surrounded by a high, stone wall, topped with iron spikes. It looked, to her, equally forbidding and entrancing. She wanted to get into it.

Having caught her breath Alya said, "Come on, there's a place where we can get through the wall. Come on Berg, we'll leave you behind if you don't keep up."

Up close the wall looked as imposing as it did from a distance. It was well maintained, and there were no trees growing close by. However, there was a small stream that ran under the wall, and a so there was a gap. Not a big one, but just big enough for a child.

"You got to take you shoes off, cause it is muddy," Alya warned as she took off her shoes and stockings. Ivory followed suit and soon the two of them were carefully making their way under the wall, the mud of the stream bed squishing up between their toes. Berg, neither wearing shoes nor concerned about the rest of this clothes, had already splashed through and was standing on the other side urging them to go faster.

Inside the wall Ivory was impressed by the gardens within, all well maintained and quite beautiful. There were topiary sculptures, a shrubbery stag surrounded by green wolves, a river dragon lounging near a decorative pond, and more. She could also smell alcohol, and hear the sounds of people at work.

"The wine press is in the back," Alya said, taking the lead, running across the short grass in her dirty, bare feet.

The satellite building was made of dark brick, tall windows set high up the wall, too high for them to look in, with stout doors. Alya showed them a small wood shed built on the side of the building. There was a small door that led from the shed into the building. "My friend Fi told me about this," Alya explained as she crawled through. Berg dove through next, knocking Ivory back and almost earning a clout behind his ear. However, having the boy start crying here would probably be a bad thing.

The press was impressive: A tall structure, with gears and belts, and a huge hopper that Ivory supposed that grapes were poured into. As impressive as the press was, the actions of the monks were far more interesting.

They were opening the press up, praying loudly, and pouring a clear liquid over the various parts. It smelt like alcohol.

"They're purifying it," Ivory said softly.

"Purifyin' it?"

"Making it clean, spiritually," Ivory explained.

"Oh, I knew that," Alya said.

"No you didn't," Ivory told her. She had been following along the whole time and now that she knew something that Alya did not she was not going to let her pretend that she did.

"Are they chasing ghosts from it?" Berg asked.

"Don't be stupid," Alya said.

"They could be chasing out ghosts, or any bad spirit." Ivory did nothing to keep smugness from her tone.

"What do you know about it?" Alya countered.

"Lot more than you."

"Ain't no ghosts or bad spirits there!"

"Might be!"

"No!"

"Actually Alya, your young friend is right."

Ivory looked to the side, surprised to find a monk standing over them. He was dressed like the other brothers, in a simple, black robe, his head shaven clean, but he had a patch over his left eye, and there were prominent scars on the left side of his face. He looked quite intimidating, Ivory thought.

He was smiling. "I see you brought your young cousin Berg. And who is your knowledgeable friend?"

What was the use of running, Ivory thought, when he already knew your name? Course, if Alya did not give her away…

"She's Ivory," Alya said sullenly, "she lives at the Inn."

So much for that thought. Ivory sighed.

"Well, welcome to our Monastery, Ivory of the Inn. Has Alya told you that you should not be here?"

Ivory though about pretending ignorance, Alya maybe deserved it for giving her name up like that, but, she did not think she would be believed. "Yes sir," she said.

He smiled. "You may call be Brother Tadfel, if you want. Now, let me get you out of here before you pollute the press. It would be most distressing if you cost us all our work. Stand up, follow me."

"Are you really chasing out ghosts?" Alya asked.

"If any ghosts have hidden in the press, we'll certainly chase them out. And any harmful spirits as well."

"But why now?" Ivory asked. "You're not going to crush the grapes until harvest."

"I see you have found yourself a scholar for a friend," Tadfel said with a soft laugh. "We'll be sealing the press with ofuda when we're finished."

"Oh," Ivory said, nodding.

"What's ofuda?" Alya whispered.

"A charm to keep spirits away," Ivory whispered back.

Alya nodded, as if she had known that all along.

"Brother Tadfel, what are those children doing here?" someone demanded.

Ivory looked towards the speaker. He was a tall, dark man, with a stern expression. She noted that Alya and Berg moved so that Tadfel was between them and the man. Obviously being discovered by Tadfel was preferred to other possibilities.

"Brother Ganda, do not worry, they have not approached close enough to the Press to contaminate our work. I'm just taking them out."

"You should whip them," Ganda said.

"Now, now Brother, the curiosity of children is a gift that we should do our best to cultivate, for only in curiosity do they learn."

"They would do well to learn how to follow rules." Ganda turned away.

"Come along children," Tadfel said, ushering them from the press room. When they were out he said, "I hope that Brother Ganda did not scare you."

Ivory shook her head, but neither Alya nor Berg said anything. Tadfel smiled at Ivory and then said, "Come along, let me get you something of a treat."

Mention of a treat seemed to put both Alya and Berg back in better spirits. "What?" Alya asked.

"Candy?" Berg asked hopefully.

Tadfel laughed and said, "Come this way."

He led them through building, and then down a set of stairs. They went down several flights of stairs and the air grew cool. There were steps that went still further down when Tadfel stopped, and Ivory thought that the corridors around them went on for some distance. The place that they were stopped was filled with large casks.

The Brother found four, wooden mugs and then filled each from one of the casks. "Cider," he said, handing the first one to Berg. When Ivory got hers she found it tasted sweet, but not cloying, and was wonderfully cold.

She drank it slowly, enjoying the taste, and looked around. There was something strange, not unpleasant, but it played on her mind. As she finished her cider she finally realised what it was. She was in a manse.

"Are you okay child?" Tadfel asked her.

Ivory looked up at him. "I'm fine," she told him.

"Oh," he said, and then, "alright children, time for you to leave."

He collected the wooden mugs from them, put them aside, and then led them back up the stairs and out of the building.

"The gardens are very beautiful," Ivory said as they walked along the path to the main gate.

"Come in by the gate one day and ask someone to show you around them," Tadfel told her with a smile. "Now children," he said as he opened the gate, "do take care of yourself."

They left and the gate closed behind them.

"That was fun," Ivory said.

Alya nodded. "Come on. Let me show you the river. There's a place where the river dragons come."

"No they don't," Berg called out.

Alya looked at Berg, murder in her eyes, and then she said, "Well, no one's seen one in a long time, but they used to come there, and maybe they will be back and we can feed Berg to them."

"You can't!"

"Come on Ivory," and Alya took Ivory's hand and led her off at a run. Behind them came Berg, already calling out for them to slow down.

* * *

The common room had more people in it that it had in the morning. People were eating, or drinking, a lot of soft conversation. As Ivory came in Maddie waved her over to the counter.

"Good evening," Maddie said.

"Good evening," Ivory said, smiling.

"You missed lunch."

Ivory nodded.

"How about you sit down and I'll send out your dinner, fish tonight, and then I'll have one of the girls help you with a bath.

"Okay," Ivory said, happy enough.

Ivory ate two helpings of the dinner, and a large slice of apple pie, and then the young woman who had brought her breakfast, her name was Gia, helped her in the bath.

It had been a long day, and though Ivory could hear the sound of music and laughter from the common room she went straight up to her room. Gia helped her light the candles and the lamp and then she left.

"Be careful of that monastery," Hu said, stepping out from the wardrobe's shadow.

"It's a manse," Ivory said, ignoring his warning. She climbed into the wardrobe to get her night dress. "I wonder what kind?"

"Water."

"Water? But it is underground!"

"There is a pure spring in the caves beneath."

"Maybe that is why their wine and stuff is so good."

"Again, you had best be careful."

"Why?" Ivory began to undress, putting her clothes--they had become a little dirty--off to the side.

"Some of those monks are god blooded I think."

"Really?" Ivory turned around, holding her blouse up across her chest. "I've never met a god blooded before. Well, not any that would admit it."

Hu laughed, a strange sound between a growl and a purr. "Just be careful. If there are any, and they know how to look, they will see that you are more than you appear."

That thought ruined Ivory's good mood. She turned back to the wardrobe to finish dressing for bed.

"You looked as if you were enjoying yourself this day," Hu said.

"I was hoping to see a river dragon," Ivory mumbled softly.

* * *

"Can I ask you for something Maddie?" Ivory climbed up on a stool in front of the counter. Behind it Maddie was examining glass, drinking cups.

"What can I do for you Ivory?" She looked away from the glasses.

Ivory put another jade bit on the counter top. "Can I have some local money for this?"

Maddie's eyes widened slightly. "And I thought a little girl giving me four jade bits was surprising, now I find she has more yet."

"I wasn't hiding them from you," Ivory said, a little insulted.

"I never said you were. I just said it was surprising." Maddie smiled. "Well, you want a little local spending money?"

"Yes please."

"Just a moment."

Maddie walked to the end of the counter and unlocked the money drawer.

Ivory kicked her feet in the air. Her shoes had been cleaned and had a slight shine to them. She was wearing the same skirt as she had the previous day, but had on a new blouse. Her hair had again been braided by Mio, who had found a nice, pink ribbon to tie it off with.

Maddie came back and placed some quartered dinars in front of Ivory. "How about this to start. You don't want to be carrying it all around in case you lose it."

"Thank you Maddie," Ivory said, and scooped up the small pieces of silver. She jumped off the stool and ran for the door. She stopped on the threshold and waved good bye, then headed out into the morning.

She found Alya, as well as Berg, waiting where they had agreed to meet. With Alya were two other girls.

"Hi Ivory," Alya called. "This is Para," she indicated a girl with black hair and darker skin, "and this is Imi," she said, pointing to the other girl, who was a little fat and had mousy brown hair.

"Hello," Ivory said.

"Para, Imi, this is Ivory."

"Hi." Para's voice was loud and her tone bright. Imi just nodded shyly.

Ivory, who had decided to take control, at least for a little while, said, "Come on Alya, and I guess Berg too." Sometimes you had to include the annoying little kid. She took off at a run. The rest followed her to the baker. Ivory went in, and then up to the counter. "Can I have three sweet buns?" she said to the man working there, and she put one of the pieces of silver up on the counter.

He picked up the silver and looked at it, as if to be sure it was real. "As you say young miss," he said, and gave Ivory her buns. Ivory took them and handed one to Alya and one to Berg, who had followed her into the bakers.

"What about us?" Para asked.

Ivory looked at her. "Alya showed me some good things yesterday."

"I'll show you some good things too," Para said.

"Me too." Imi's voice was almost a whisper.

Ivory thought about it, then looked at the baker. "Two more buns please."

The baker gave her the buns and her change.

"Alright," Ivory said to Para, "show me something good."

* * *

It was early afternoon when Ivory and the other children wandered back into the main part of the village. They had been playing a chase game called death lord and zombies which was similar to a game that Ivory had played at home called anathema and slaves. A number of children had joined their game, and Ivory had promised sweet buns to several of them.

Some children had run ahead, laughing and claiming that they were going to choose the best sweet bun for themselves. The laughing stopped suddenly and there were cries of pain. Ivory ran forward and around the corner of a storehouse to see what had happened.

There were a group of several older boys, one of them quite tall, surprisingly muscular. He was holding the wrist of a girl--her name was Violet--pulling her up so she had to stand on the tips of her toes. Behind him the other boys were also harassing the children who had run ahead.

"That's Jinkar, he's the black smith's 'prentice," Alya whispered into Ivory's ear.

Jinkar looked away from the girl he was holding, at Ivory and the others. He released the girl, pushing her away, and stalked up towards Ivory. "You the new girl?" he demanded.

Ivory looked around at the children, then back at Jinkar. "Have you ever seen me before?" she asked pleasantly.

He looked confused, frowning. "No," he said.

"Do you know all the other children here?"

"Yeah."

"Then that would make me the new girl," she patiently explained.

There was some laughter behind her, laughter that immediately stopped when Jinkar glared around. That taken care of he stepped closer to Ivory. "You're buying stuff for kids. You're gonna buy me and my friends stuff, right."

"If you show me something int'restin," Ivory said, not backing down.

He reached forward and grabbed a handful of her blouse, pulling her close. "I'll show you me pushin your face inta the mud if you don't."

Ivory reached up and grasped his thumb, twisting it to the side to force him to release his hold and then forced him to his knees. She was still smiling pleasantly.

"Let go!" Jinkar shouted.

Ivory punched him in the nose and then released her hold on him.

He collapsed to the ground, holding his bleeding nose, crying.

One of the other boys, perhaps out of a sense of loyalty, charged at Ivory. She stepped to the side and tripped him. Another tried to grab her but Ivory hit him hard in the solar plexus and he fell over. The other boys ran.

"Come on," Ivory said to the other children, smiling brightly, "let's go see the baker." She was not worried about any trouble. Adults, she knew, usually let children sort things out amongst themselves as long as no one got hurt. She had bloodied Jinkar's nose, but had not broke it. He would be fine, but she did not think he would dare bother her again.

By the end of the day Ivory found that she had become the leader of the children, in so much as they had leaders.

She was pretty sure she was the best leader the kids had ever had. She did not have to use violence like Jinkar had, but she supposed it was always a quiet threat. She even took them to war a few days later, against some kids who lived on the barges that moved up and down the river. They were tough kids even Jinkar--who had become her loyal lieutenant since she had knocked him down--was afraid of them, but Ivory led her troops and sent the barge kids running away, crying.

That night she sat at the vanity, combing out her hair, talking to Hu about everything that had happened. Hu asked, suddenly, "What are you plans?"

Ivory stopped what she was doing, looking in the mirror at the tiger lying on her bed.

"I was thinking," she said, her gaze not wavering, "that I would stay here for a while. I want to see at least one of the alcohol day festivals, and I want to see the martial arts tournament."

"And then?"

"I'm not sure. There are things," she paused, "that I feel like I should do, but not yet. It doesn't feel like the right time."

Hu seemed to nod, and then he put his head down on his forepaws, closing his eyes.

Ivory smiled and went back to brushing her hair.


	3. Portents of Darkness

Portents of Darkness

It had been nearly two weeks since Ivory had come to Vinleau and she had settled in well, having met many of the people who lived there, and made many friends. She was coming down for breakfast when Maddie met her at the bottom of the stairs. "Good morning Ivory." She smiled.

"Good morning Maddie," Ivory said happily.

"I need to speak with you."

"About what?" There was something in Maddie's tone that made Ivory think it must be important.

"Come with me please," Maddie told her.

Maddie took her into a small room that Ivory guessed was Maddie's office. It had a desk in it, piled high with ledgers, bits of paper, several bottles of inks, brushes and quills. There were some cabinets, a large metal box, and several chairs. Maddie took a seat behind the desk and indicated that Ivory should sit.

"Ivory, the time you paid for has come to an end." Maddie sounded very serious.

"Oh," Ivory said, not seeing the problem. Before she could tell Maddie to wait while she got some more jade, Maddie continued on.

"There are no friends coming to meet you here, are there?"

Ivory nodded. "I'm sorry, I lied about that." She decided she would be truthful with Maddie, or as truthful as she could be.

Maddie sighed. "What happened to you?"

That was an area that Ivory did not want to talk about and she said as much, though politely.

"Well," Maddie leaned back in her chair, "I was thinking that you could work here, help out with things, while you lived here. If," she said a little nervously, "you wanted that?"

Ivory was a little surprised at the idea that she might work there. Working in an Inn? She was not some peasant after all. But, she thought, she really did not think Maddie or Mio or any of the other people were peasants. She fought the urge to giggle as she pictured what her sisters and brother might say if they learned she had taken such a job.

"I think I would like that."

Maddie suddenly seemed at ease and she smiled again. "I'm glad. Of course you'll have to leave the room you are in now. There are some rooms up in the attic, very small, but still nice. I can put you in one of those. And you won't be able to get as much help from the staff, but it seems like you are getting pretty good at looking after yourself."

Ivory nodded.

"And you'll have to spend a few hours each day taking care of various chores."

Ivory nodded again.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled." She got up from behind the desk. "Let's get you moved into your new room."

And that was how Ivory stopped being a guest and became Ivory of the Briar. Not that things changed too much. Her room was smaller, and, being in the attic, was either a little too warm or a little too cool, but Ivory did not mind. She did not need a lot of space, even with Hu sometimes taking up all of the narrow bed, and she really did not spend a lot of time there.

The work that Maddie had her do was not particularly hard. Some cleaning and taking messages about the village made up the majority of it. She had lots of time for her friends.

She and Alya had become nearly inseparable. Alya's parents were the village healers, and her mother, Alya would say in hushed tones, was the village exorcist. They did not make Alya work, like many of the 

other children in the village were made to, and they were willing to wait another year or two before teaching her about healing and dealing with ghosts.

The two of them, Ivory had basically assigned a few other boys to play with Berg and keep him out of trouble, often ran off to some place to sit and talk. Alya would weave laurels of wild flowers and put them on Ivory's head. Ivory would tell Alya stories, and come up with fun games to play. Ivory came up with the best ideas, or at least all the other children said so, and she could be trusted to come up with interesting parts for everyone.

And one day Ivory moved from being admired by the children, to being admired by the adults as well. She was sitting in the kitchen, polishing some of the Inn's treasured silverware, while Maddie was looking over some books.

"Can I help you with that?" Ivory asked as she put the last piece of silver in its wooden case.

Maddie looked up from her work. "Can you read?"

Ivory laughed. "And do my sums."

Maddie looked through the book she was working in and pulled out a loose page. "Can you do this?"

Ivory looked it over. It was a bill of sale for the various dry goods that the Inn used. She picked up the quill that Maddie had been using, filled in a few things, tallied up the numbers, and then handed to page back.

Maddie looked at it for a time. She put it down and pushed the book towards Ivory. "Work on the last six pages then," she said.

Ivory smiled and did as asked.

As it turned out there were a number of people in the village who needed some help from someone who was literate and could do math. And when they found out that Ivory knew other languages, there was even more work for her to do.

'Normally have to wait for someone who comes off a ship', 'Greyfalls wants it all in High Realm, takes forever to prepare the bills', 'It's an old recipe, but I can't read it', 'I bought if off a Scavenger Lord, but couldn't understand the writing on it, is it really a protection charm', were all the kinds of thing she had to deal with.

Ivory did not ask to be paid. She found it all terribly easy. She had been an excellent student before she had been chosen, and now there seemed to be little she did not know. She did take some things in trade, however, like sweet buns at the bakery; to keep her troops happy.

And the way Maddie seemed so proud of her; that was often payment enough.

She even stopped having the strange dreams that woke her in the middle of the night, or at least did not have them as often.

"You've been here almost two months," Maddie said one day. They were working together in her office, Ivory looking over some letters that Maddie needed translated.

Ivory looked up from the work, thoughtful, counting back in her head. "Yeah, I guess so," she said. It did not seem that long.

"We'll be getting busy soon. The market day is coming up."

"That's okay," Ivory said. "Most of my friends'll be busy too."

"I think you'll get a chance to meet a lot of people."

"That'll be nice," Ivory said in an offhanded manner, her attention focused on the page she was reading.

"Do you ever think about what you are going to do?" Maddie asked, something in her tone making Ivory look up. Maddie was looking at her curiously.

"Do?"

"When you grow up."

"Oh."

"Don't think that I want you to leave, because I don't, but," Maddie reached out and put her hand on Ivory's head, "I think you could do so much. You could go to school."

"School?"

"You could go to Great Forks. There's a university there."

Ivory had not really been thinking about where Maddie was going with her questions and suggestions, but it suddenly became clear, and she also knew what Maddie wanted to hear. "I guess I really haven't thought about it," she said.

"You should."

"I will," Ivory told her.

Maddie began to talk about Great Forks, how she had lived there for a time, about the tragedy when most of the army had not come back. She even cried a little, and used a handkerchief to wipe at her eyes. Ivory suddenly wondered why Maddie was not married.

Ivory opened her mouth to ask about that, but instead she said, "Our meeting will lead to darkness, and tragedy will settle around like a thick, morning fog."

She had not spoken like that in months, and she put her hands over her mouth, as if somehow that could make them unspoken.

Maddie was looking off, her eyes unfocused, still clutching her handkerchief. She blinked and looked at Ivory. "Pardon?"

"Nothing," Ivory said.

Maddie nodded. "Please give it some thought, about going to Great Forks. I can help you, financially, if you want."

Ivory nodded, but she was not really listening.

* * *

"It was a prophecy," Ivory told Hu. She was in her small, attic room, sitting on her bed. Hu lay on the floor in front of her, taking up most of the space.

"I agree," he told her.

"But I said that our meeting would lead to darkness, that there would be tragedy."

"You must be vigilant then," Hu said simply.

"You don't understand," Ivory accused.

"It is not a complex premise. There is a danger. Now you must be ready for it."

Ivory wanted to shout at Hu, to tell him that he was over simplifying it, but he was not.

"You're afraid for your friend," Hu said.

"I don't want her to be hurt. I really like her."

"Then don't let her be."

Ivory wondered if it would really be that simple.

* * *

Ivory's concern over the prophecy faded a little. It seemed nothing bad was going to happen. And a few days later something exciting occurred. She and Alya were coming down from the hill, giggling happily, when Korvin came running up to them.

Korvin was the boy who had charged Ivory after she had punched Jinkar. He had attacked her out of a strong sense of loyalty, and with Jinkar knocked off his perch, he was now loyal to Ivory.

"The village is full of people," Korvin shouted. "Bunch of Scav'ger Lords. They're buyin' up all kinds of stuff."

"What did they bring with them?" Ivory asked excitedly, picturing a number of first age devices in the village below. She entertained a fantasy of impressing a Scavenger Lord with her knowledge and being taken on as an apprentice.

"Nothing. Sold it all to Lookshy didn't they."

"To Lookshy?"

"Sold it all, they said. Now they want to spend their money."

"I better get home," Alya said. "My parents' shop is probably busy. People always want to buy my mother's amulets." She smiled broadly, her tone important. Then she ran off.

"Did anyone else come?" Ivory asked.

"Don't know," he said.

"How did they come?"  
"Came along the road, from the west, didn't they. Some barge pulled along the river too."

"Any of those barge kids?"

He shook his head.

"Well, that's good. I better go back to the Briar, I bet Maddie needs me."

Korvin nodded.

"You did a good job coming to tell me."

He smiled at the praise.

Ivory took off, running down the path as fast as she could go.

There were a lot of people in the streets, moving between shops, and there were horses too. Near the river she could see several smaller barges, a corral, and lots of tents. Boxes and crates were being unloaded from the barges. She wondered if Korvin had been wrong about them not having any great wonders to sell.

After all, she thought, those traitors from Lookshy could not have bought it all.

When she reached the village proper she stood there, bouncing from foot to foot, looking at the people--was that a Djala? That tall man with the long, blonde hair must be a northerner. That woman's hair was green!--trying to decide what to do. Should she run down to river, take a look at the things there, or should she go to the Inn first?

Maddie probably did need her, but wasn't it important that she saw what was in the boxes and crates? Maybe the Scavenger Lords had brought a dreaded Soul Breaker orb with them!

It seemed, Ivory thought sadly, unlikely that the Scavenger Lords had something like that, and, she was not entirely sure she would be able to identify a Soul Breaker orb. She had only read about them in an old, old novel.

To the Inn, she decided. She would take a look at the Scavenger Lords' goods later.

She came into the Inn through the back door. She could hear a lot of noise coming from the common room, from the kitchen, from up above her, as people walked across the upper floors.

"Ivory, good, thought we'd need to send someone out to get you," Jane said. She was one of the maids, and also helped in the kitchen when they were busy. "Maddie is behind the counter up front. Go and see her."

"Right," Ivory said happily, and ran off towards the front of the Inn.

Maddie was glad to see her and handed her several lists. "I've got the places you need to go on each list," she said. "Quickly, go and tell them to send it all over as soon as possible."

Ivory took the lists and ran from the Inn. She stopped at the bakers, the dry-goods store, the butcher, and a house that belonged to a farmer. After that she went sprinting up the hill to the monastery where she rang the bell on the front gates and handed the list to the young brother who came to answer.

When she returned to the Inn there was more work for her to do. The large number of guests had not been expected. Ivory helped prepare some rooms. Carried things from the store room to the kitchen, and then sat down to write several letters to suppliers in Great Forks.

She did not get a chance to go down to the river to look at the boxes, but it no longer seemed exciting. She had heard people talking in the common room and from the sound of it the majority of it was scrap metal and the like. Anything useful had indeed been bought by the Seventh Legion.

The people in the Inn were young and old, part of a Scavenger's Lords salvage team. They all had money in their pockets and they were all looking to spend it on something. Ivory heard a few servants giggling about offers that had been made to them.

Ivory had finished up the letters, shuffled them together, and was about to take them to Maddie's office when Mull called to her, "Ivory, give me a hand." He smiled and used a square of bar cloth to wipe his forehead.

Mull was, as far as Ivory could figure out, Maddie's front man. He worked behind the counter, serving drinks and keeping an eye on the customers. A big, bald man, she had seen him, several weeks before, pick up a drunken farmer and toss him from the Inn.

"What?" she asked him.

"We're swamped in here. Be a good girl and take this tray of beer to tha table over there."

Maddie, Ivory knew, did not want her working as a server. However, Ivory reasoned, she may not have meant during such a busy time. So she smiled and took the tray.

It was a little heavy, though more awkward, and the sea of people outside threatened to knock her over. Ivory found herself trapped between two people who seemed unaware that she was there, and the tray beginning to tip.

She used her magic, slipping around the men, moving smoothly, keeping the tray level, not spilling a drop of beer. She placed the tray on the table, took the glasses off of it, and placed the wooden mugs in front of each person. Then she took the tray from the table and performed one of the half curtseys that she saw the other servants do.

"Adorable," a tall man with a heavily scarred face said.

"Seems these waitresses get younger and younger every year," a small woman joked.

"Cm'ere darling," one of the men said, and as Ivory approached he held out two silver coins for her. "You remind me of my little girl. Go and buy yourself a doll or a new dress."

Ivory took the coins, curtseyed again, and then retreated back to the counter. She put the tray to the side and then handed Mull the coins.

He looked at them, obviously surprised. "Was this a mistake?" he asked, holding up the silver dinars.

Ivory shook her head. "He told me to buy a doll or a dress, that I 'minded him of his daughter."

Mull laughed. "I love these people," he said, and tossed the coins into the tip jar. "Alright, take this tray to the big table by the sideboard."

Ivory was kept busy as the sun set, the large windows looking out on the darkness and the lanterns that hung outside. She moved through the Inn, calling on her power to avoid being knocked over. It was like a game as she threaded through the forest of people taller than her.

Almost every one of the customers she served gave her a large tip, or at least Ivory assumed it was a large tip from the way that Mull laughed happily as he put it all in the tip jar. The other servers were smiling at her too, for they all shared equally in the tips. She had heard once Maddie say, when she did not know Ivory was close by, 'she did not want servers acting a slattern in an attempt to increase what the customers gave them'.

It was hours later when Ivory found a moment to take a quick break. She wiped at her forehead with one of the bar cloths and wondered if she should tell Mull she wanted to go to bed. She had not seen Maddie, but was sure if she asked Maddie would tell her it was okay for her to go to bed.

"Ivory, got a good one for you," Mull called to her. He had one of the silver trays, and two of the crystal wine glasses, part of the Inn's treasures, on it. He put two wine bottles on the tray and then held it out to her. "Best table, by the fireplace. Charm them, they look like they got more money than most." He winked at her.

Ivory made herself smile as she took the tray. Again, she made her way through the people, a graceful dancer amongst the pillars, she imagined, and put the tray on the table. As she took the glasses and bottles off she smiled up at the customers and very nearly dropped one of the glasses.

There were two of them, a man and a woman. Both were well dressed. The man wore a sweeping blue cape and a blue jade breastplate. Behind him was a daiklaive, its hilt decorated with blue and red jade inlay. He was tall, heavily muscled, with long, blue black hair, his features were sharp and pointed, his blue eyes narrow. He smelt of the sea, Ivory thought.

The woman wore a cloak over red jade plate. The unsheathed grand daiklaive leaning up against the wall behind her shone red in the Inn's light. The family mon of the Cathak was on both the armour and sword. She had curly ginger hair, her eyes a reddish brown, her skin tinged red. She was pretty, but had a serious, severe look, and Ivory did not think she would smile much.

Neither seemed to have noticed Ivory's momentary clumsiness with the glass, they seemed engrossed in their private conversation. The man reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled forth a handful of jade bits. "Take this child. Dragons bless you." He pushed it at Ivory, not looking at her.

Ivory took it, thinking that she would go to bed after this. She started to turn away when the woman's hand shot out and grabbed Ivory's wrist. "Hold," she said.

The man looked curiously at his Cathak companion.

"The Peleps child was said to have red hair and golden eyes."

Ivory swallowed.

The man turned to look at her, narrow eyes narrowing even more so. "What's your name girl?"

Why hadn't she lied when she had first come to the village, Ivory wondered. "Alya," she said, and knew that she would be found out soon.

The man put his hand on her shoulder, his fingers pressing painfully into the muscle. "I think you lie girl," he said softly.

"Let me go," Ivory said, her voice loud. A few people who occupied the closest tables turned to look at them. A harsh look from the woman and man made the curious turn away.

"I will have the truth from you, be certain of that," he told her, smiling. He was not going to let her go.

Hu came out of a patch of shadow, flying across the room, slamming into the man. He had to release his hold on Ivory to protect himself, to hold hundreds of pounds of enraged tiger from him. As Hu sent the man crashing away Ivory grabbed the silver tray and ran back to the way she had come.

Mull had come out from behind the counter, looking over the heads towards the disturbance. From the look of mild annoyance one his face she did not think that he really knew what was happening. Ivory put the silver tray and the jade on the counter. "I'm sorry," she said, and then turned and ran for the front door.

"What happened Ivory?" he called out.

"Stop that girl," the woman bellowed, her voice cutting through all the other noise.

Several people looked around, some got up, moving towards her. One man, dressed in buff jacket, a Ragara mon over his heart, tried to grab her. She slipped around him, moving with impossible fluidity. She knew that her caste mark glittered on her forehead as she met his gaze. She saw fear in his eyes.

Then Ivory was through the door and sprinting for the village boundaries.

There was a crash. Ivory looked back. Hu came through one of the windows, glass shards in a cloud around him, each spinning and catching the light of the moon and the lanterns. He hit the ground, his rear legs gathering up, and then leapt forward, reaching Ivory's side in that single bound. He turned and Ivory leapt onto his back, gripping the fur tightly.

The tiger sped off, leaping over fences, even atop houses, as he ran straight out of the village. Ivory hung on tight, her eyes closed, her face pressed into the fur.

She was crying.

* * *

Hu had brought her back to the root cave along the river, and there Ivory curled up on the dirt floor. She was no longer crying, but she could not sleep.

"I should have fought them," she told Hu and the darkness.

"You had no weapons," the tiger told her kindly.

"I still should have fought them."

"No."

Ivory did not say anything else, she was sure that she should have fought. She would have to find weapons, to ensure that next time she could; even if only a small knife. She should have had a knife; there had been plenty of chances for her to get one. The man at the dry-goods store had told her she could have anything for the help she gave him. There had been a well made knife in a cabinet.

She should have taken the knife.

When Hu had attacked the man she could have pulled the knife that she should have had out and stabbed the woman, before she could react. She would have been a hero.

The fantasy made her feel better at first, but she soon saw it for just that, a fantasy.

No one would have thanked her for the killing of two Terrestrials.

Morning came, and she had still not slept. She left her shelter and went to collect some food. She was better at taking care of herself now then she had been a few weeks ago.

Hu left her, she guessed to patrol the area around the camp, to make sure they were not being followed.

Ivory walked up the river, climbed the rocks beside the waterfall. There was a steep hill that the river rushed down. Ivory climbed the hill, was reminded of climbing the hill to the monastery, with Alya by her side. She wondered about Alya. Does she miss me? Ivory wondered. Does she hate me?

At the top of the hill Ivory looked out over a flat plane, it was a gentle, rolling land, the river snaking its way through the hills. There was something strangely familiar about it all.

She turned and went back the way she had come. She was climbing down rocks beside the waterfall when Hu leapt from above her to land on a boulder below. Hanging from her perch she looked down at him. "I want to go back."

Hu dipped his head in a nod.

They reached Vinleau at twilight. Ivory knew immediately something had happened, she could smell smoke, and the feel of the village was wrong. She could not see the silhouette of Inn. Her stomach suddenly hurt, and it felt as if something was squeezing her heart.

The windows of the buildings she passed were shuttered, she saw no one about.

She remembered the first time she had seen the Barley and the Briar, in her memory, coloured by her experiences, it had seemed so welcoming.

The burnt out ruins looked nothing like the picture in her memory. The central building had burnt down to the foundation. The satellite buildings were all damaged to a lesser extent. A single pillar stuck up from the broken stones. Someone knelt on the cracked stones where the front door had once been. She saw the partially burnt sign lying close by, only the words 'Barley and' were visible.

It took her a moment to identify Mull as the person kneeling on the stone.

So very happy to see him, she ran towards him. "Mull! What happened?"

He turned, his gaze meeting hers. There was a cut across his face; his eyes were sunken and bruised. For a moment it seemed as if he did not recognize her. Then his eyes widened, the white showing starkly against his soot stained face.

"You!" he nearly screamed, and leapt at her.

Hu was suddenly between them, driving Mull back with his sheer size.

Mull did not try to attack her again, but he stared at her with open hate. "It's your fault," he spat. "It's all your fault."

Ivory tried not to cry. "Where's Maddie?" she asked.

He was crying, seeming unable to speak. He jerked his head towards the Inn, towards the pillar that stood up from the ruins.

Ivory walked towards it. The sun was almost down and it was hard to see at first. Then she saw there was something on the charred, wooden pillar. Something held there with scorched chains. She gasped, realising it was a charred skeleton.

"Maddie stood up for you," Mull sobbed. "That's what they did to her."

Ivory turned and fled, crying so hard she could hardly see. Hu ran beside her, using his body to direct her so she did not get hurt.

Greif clouded her mind, it was like she had sunk beneath the cold waters of the ocean. And yet a single desire reached her, a hand to pull her free. She would kill all those who had hurt Maddie. She pictured the man and the Cathak woman.

She needed weapons, she needed power and suddenly she knew where to find them.

* * *

A piece of wood crunched under his feet as he crossed the ruins of the Barley and the Briar. He was a thin man, with pale skin, and short, brown hair. He moved across the burnt remains, his black cloak 

nearly sweeping the ground. His eyes, dark brown, darted about, his gaze never lingering on anything for long.

Standing near the pillar was the ghost of the dead woman. Her corpus was marked with burns, but it had been the smoke that had killed her long before her body had been consumed by the fire. Unclothed, she stared off into the distance.

He reached into his clothing and removed a manacle. Quickly he stepped close to the ghost and clipped the manacle around her wrist. There was a glow of green light around the soulsteel as it locked, and for a moment a transparent chain of faint, green light formed between the manacle and the man.

The ghost of Maddie Briar turned towards the man. Her eyes were nearly vacant and she said nothing.

"Letting the call of Lethe and rebirth lay claim on you already? Well, you'll be no loss." He turned and started to walk away. Behind him the ghost was pulled forward, the manacle dragging her. She called out about needing to protect a child, but he ignored her.

He was good at ignoring the cries of the dead.


	4. The Scavenger Lord's Watch

In the Temple District of Great Forks was an establishment called the 'Maiden's Kiss'. It was a pleasure house, and took that name seriously. It employed skilled cooks for those whose pleasure was eating, and its wine cellars contained vintages to please even the most demanding epicure. Its beds were soft, it's rooms luxurious. The woman and men who provided sexual pleasures were master courtesans; though, for those who demanded it even the meanest prostitute might be found to provide release. It was not for the staff of the Maiden's Kiss to tell its customers what to enjoy.

For scholars there was a fine library. For equestrians the stables held some of the best horses in the region. And for gamblers, there was the casino with myriad games of chance.

The card table was an octagon, covered in soft, green felt. Five men sat around the table, stacks of markers and money in front of them.

There was the Guild merchant Liavon Varram, a big man, covered in a generous layer of fat, his clothing fine. He smiled and laughed as he played, drank well, and enjoyed himself. He would often run his hand through his short, brown hair and it was in disarray.

Jenka Ghost Hand was a Scavenger Lord, in some ways the opposite of Liavon. Somewhat shorter, he was a lean man, wiry, a man who lived hard. His clothing was of quality, and made to last. His black hair, beard and moustache were neatly trimmed. He sat at the table, his clear, blue eyes most often on his cards, saying little. He wore a glove over the left hand that had given him his title.

Jackal was an old man, a professional gambler. Playing with a minimum of movement, he sat in his chair; his gaze focused more on the other players than his cards. His thinning, grey hair was neatly styled and pulled back from his face. His dark clothing was clean and wrinkle free.

The youngest looked more a boy than a man. His blonde hair was so short it almost made him look bald. He was dressed well enough, but wore his clothing poorly. He did not play well and complained when the cards did not go his way. He had not given anyone his name and people had started calling him Blondie, or Boy if they were intending to offer insult.

Heron Jade Eyes was a man so beautiful most people thought he was a woman. He had long black hair, and his eyes were the colour of green jade. Tall and slim, he was dressed in a white, silk robe, with red trimming. He smiled as he played, win or lose, and he watched the others players even more than Jackal did. Anyone watching the game would say that Heron was winning.

"I think I'll fold," Heron said, putting his cards face down on the table.

"Ah, has Plentimon forsaken you as well my lady?" Liavon asked with a laugh.

Heron had already told the merchant, twice, that he was not a woman, and saw no reason to continue to correct him. He did not mind if people thought him a woman, but he would not have anyone say that he had misled them. "Plentimon has no favourites," he said, "for all that play are his worshippers."

"Well said." Jenka smiled.

Blondie scowled and shuffled the cards in his hand.

Heron signalled a waitress and asked for a glass of tea. Liavon told the server that he would pay for it.

The tea arrived soon, but the hand was already over, Jackal drawing the small pot towards him. Blondie looked sullen. Heron wondered if he would complain of cheating again. It had been made quite clear to the young man that such accusations without proof would be allowed to pass only once.

The deck moved onto to Jackal who gathered up the cards and shuffled them. "Nothing fancy," he said. "Seven card hand, two cards face up, five down. Nine dealt. 1 dinar buys in. Nothing wild."

Heron tossed one of his coins into the centre of the table, as did all the other gamblers. Jackal dealt the cards fast, with sure motions. Two cards up, seven down. Heron's two face cards were the Resplendent Water Dragon and the Dawn Sun. He did not look at his face down cards, but at the other players.

Blondie had several tells, and Heron knew immediately the young man had a poor hand. Jenka's tells were more subtle, but he rubbed his gloved index finger and thumb together when he was bluffing. Liavon gave himself away by the way he held his cards, close to him if bad, away from him if good. He had them pulled close.

Jackal was, not surprisingly, the hardest to read. He was a man who had obviously taught himself to give little away. Heron, however, could make his senses as keen as the Unconquered Sun's and saw the tiny twitch beneath the man's left eye which told him Jackal was not happy.

Jenka was the first to raise, and ask for another card. His thumb and index finger lightly brushed each other. Heron matched the raise and asked for one card. Liavon laughed, matched and asked for five cards. Jackal matched and took two cards. Blondie looked at his cards, biting his lower lip.

Taking pity on the man Heron said, "The smart man only loses what he wants to."

"Shut up whore," Blondie snapped, tossing his money into the pot. "Give me three cards." He pushed his two face cards away from him and tossed down another card.

"You Boy will watch you manners," Liavon nearly shouted.

Heron put a hand on the merchant's shoulder. "Words do no harm."

Liavon, placated, calmed down. It did not look like Blondie appreciated the help, but Heron supposed it would be foolish to expect much good sense from the young man. Some people had to learn the hard way.

Jackal raised and took no new cards. Liavon put down his cards and laughed. Blondie matched and asked for three more cards, tossing his face cards in again. Jenka matched and asked for one card. Heron decided the pot looked sweet enough, matched and raised, high, to see who would stay in. Jenka folded, Jackal did not and Blondie churlishly tossed his cards down and sat back heavily in his chair.

Heron and Jackal stared at each other across the table. "What you got?" Jackal asked.

Heron laid five of his down cards next to his face up cards. Two more Water Dragon Cards, the Noon Sun, the Descending Fire Dragon, the Resplendent Wood Dragon. "Five dragons, full water."

Jackal put his cards down and indicated that Heron should take the pot. Heron did so.

Blondie dealt next, an overly complex version of Chiaroscuro rules, with too many wild cards. Heron won that hand, taking away more than a shekel of jade from Blondie who had kept raising in an attempt to bluff.

Jenka went for a simple five card game, no draws. Heron, having nothing, folded immediately and finished off his tea instead. Jackal won that hand.

The cards passed next to Heron who shuffled them slowly, smiling. "We'll play a ten card spread, five up, five down, Great Forks variation. Sun, Moon and Stars ascendant over Dragons."

Blondie scowled at that, his jaw muscles tightening. Heron reassessed the young man. Not a young man with a short haircut, but a monk who had not shaved his head in several days.

What was an Immaculate monk doing in Great Forks? Heron wondered if Blondie was there as a scout for the Wyld Hunt, but discounted that immediately. Desperate as he had heard the Hunt was, he could not see them using Blondie.

It seemed likely that whatever Blondie was there for, he was not there for anything connected to Heron.

Heron dealt the cards, called a three obol buy in, and then played. The thing he liked about the ten card spread was that it was easy to get a good hand, hard to get a winning one. It was the sort of thing that 

made people bet, thinking they were going to win. On the third raise Heron dropped in six shekels, the jade hit the table with a 'thump'.

Liavon folded at once.

Jackal looked thoughtful, stared at Heron for a few seconds, then matched it with several stacks of jade and silver.

Jenka reached into his jacket and removed a golden disk a little bigger than his palm. He held it by its chain so it spun freely, flashing in the rooms light. On both sides, around the edge, were characters that Heron could not read. He noticed that Blondie was eyeing it greedily and wondered if it was the reason that the monk was there.

"It's a chronometer," Jenka said, pressing a catch, causing the disk to open. Within, covered by a transparent dome, was the face. Hands swept over it, small disks turned, the detail within was incredible. "Tells time, tracks stars, moon phases, seasons, and much more." He closed it up and put it in the pot. "Agreed?"

"Seems fair to me," Jackal said.

"I'll accept its value," Heron said.

Blondie only nodded, seeming unable to speak, and he reached into the bag at his side and drew forth six shekels of his own and placed them on the table.

Jackal looked at him. "Is that your money to bet Boy?"

"Of course it is," Blondie snapped.

"The question," Heron said, "is that your money to lose?"

Blondie did not answer for a moment, then, angrily, said, "You're not my mother bitch."

Again, this prompted an angry outburst from Liavon, but again Heron calmed him.

"Let him play," Heron said.

"On his head then," Jackal said.

Blondie laughed then, a cruel sound, and he smiled. "I raise." He reached into the bag at his side and drew forth several pieces of paper, tossing them in the pot. "One true talent of Imperial Jade." He had a manic appearance about him.

"What the hell are these?" Jackal demanded, picking up one of the pieces of paper.

Heron had drawn one to himself and looked it over. "Official letter of credit, backed by the Bank of the Scarlet Throne."

Jackal looked at the letter of credit for several seconds, then called out, "Silk."

A woman approached them, smiling. She was tall, handsome, her short hair white, her almond shaped eyes blue. "How can I help you Jackal."

"Are these genuine?" He indicated the letters of credit.

Silk gathered them up, Blondie watching her closely, and looked through them. "Genuine, totalling one true talent of Imperial Jade. I must say, it has been a long time since a game has been played for such high stakes at my establishment."

More people gathered around the table, whispering.

Silk put the letters of credit back on the table, stacked neatly. "I believe that it is now to the rest of you gentleman."

"Walker's cold ass," Jenka said and dropped his cards in front of him.

Jackal, looking angry for the first time, tossed his cards down. "Little pissant."

Blondie smiled broadly.

Heron reached into the sleeve of his robe and removed several pieces of paper.

Blondie frowned, while everyone looked on interested. There was a murmur of conversation among the table as various side bets were placed.

Heron looked through the paper, selected several sheets, returned the others to his sleeve, and then put the sheets he had kept on the table. "The equivalent in silver. Letters of Credit from the guild."

Silk picked up the letters and looked them over. "Five talents of silver. Your raise has been matched."

Blondie grimaced, but he looked at his cards, seeming to take comfort from them. "Fine."

Heron pushed all of the coins and markers in front of him into the pot. "Raise."

"You can't!" Blondie said.

"Did no one explain the rules to you," he paused, "Boy?"

"You have to match," Silk said, "or you fold."

"I don't have that much."

"Well, I'm afraid…" Silk said.

"My life!" Blondie yelled. "My life. I lose, you kill me. I'll be your slave. Whatever."

"You're not worth spit," Jackal said softly.

"I'd take no pleasure in killing you and as a slave," Heron shrugged his shoulders, "you're worthless."

"Do you have anything else to offer?" Silk asked him.

"I have friends coming. They'll cover it."

Jackal snorted. He was obviously enjoying himself.

"I'm afraid that the table cannot accept those sorts of promises." Silk smiled kindly.

"But my hand!" Blondie was suddenly near tears. "It's a winning hand!"

"Only if you can match," Heron said. "That's the way of the game."

"You poxy bitch," Blondie screamed, and lunged across the table.

Heron moved, standing, his right hand flashing out, hitting Blondie in the chest, stopping him cold. In Heron's left hand was small flame piece, a tiny weapon that was nearly engulfed by his long, fine fingers. He pressed the barrel against Blondie's head. "Losing is bad. Losing other people's money is worse. Having your face burnt off though, I personally think you would not like that. Walk away."

There were tears running down Blondie's face. He screamed, turned, and then fled from the room.

"Heron," Silk said as she stepped close to him, "we do not allow weapons within the establishment." Her tone was cold.

Heron smiled at her. "Ah, forgive me, I must have forgotten." He put the small flame piece into her hand.

"Of course." She handed the weapon to one of the servers. "Please put this with the rest of Mister Heron's weapons."

"Yes ma'am."

"I think I will call it a night," Heron said as he gathered up the letters of credit and the watch. "I'll pay for Blondie's room and tab," he told Silk, "he probably can't afford it any longer."

Silk nodded.

"Can you take this for me, put all the jade in a bag, the rest, I'll take a Guild Letter of credit."

"Of course."

Heron smiled broadly. "Drinks for everyone, on me."

There were cheers.

Jenka smiled and congratulated Heron. Jackal gave him a nod, one gambler to another. Liavon asked Heron to come to his room. Heron agreed.

The merchant learned that Heron was indeed a man, but found that it did not bother him that much.

* * *

Hours later Heron returned to his room. He took the time to wash up and then changed into his travelling clothes. He packed his possessions into a pair of saddle bags, slid various items into the pockets of his outer robe, and then left the room. He used a set of narrow service stairs to descend to the first floor.

The narrow corridors within the building went everywhere. He threaded his way through the almost maze until his stood before a heavy door of dark wood. He knocked on it.

"Enter." He heard Silk's muffled voice from within.

Silk's office was large, with walls panelled in the same wood as the door, a ceiling covered in embossed tin, the floor in a thick carpet. The furniture within had an airy quality to it, made of metal and glass. She sat behind her desk, a calligraphy set in front of her. "What a pleasure to see you Heron."

"You don't sleep, do you?" Heron asked as he closed the door behind him.

She smiled and put her calligraphy set aside. Her chair swivelled on bearings as she turned so she could reach into a cabinet behind her. When she turned back she put a purse and a piece of paper on the glass top of her desk. "Your jade and letter of credit."

Heron walked across the thick carpet and took a seat in front of the desk. He picked up the purse, feeling its weight in his hand, and then put it back down. "I'm leaving."

"I'm not surprised. Our young friend is going to have to eventually tell someone he lost a fortune that did not belong to him."

Heron nodded. "You should have never let him in here." He slid the letter of credit across the desk, towards the centre.

Silk shrugged her shoulders, watching him. "A momentary lack of judgement."

"It might cause you some problems." Heron reached into his over robe.

"I'm well protected."

"I sure you are." He removed his other letters of credits, sorted through them, and put most on the desk top, returning the remainder to his robe. "Are you willing to handle some business for me?"

"For fifteen percent."

"Fifteen percent? Robbery. Standard is ten."

"I'm better than standard, and why should you care. Unless I miss my guess you haven't earned an honest piece of silver or jade in your life."

Heron laughed. "True enough. Fifteen it is."

"So, what do you want me to do?" She picked up the letters of credit and looked through them.

"Buy me a nice house in the city, manor in the countryside."

"Planning on moving here?"

"No," he shook his head, "but it is always nice to have a place to stay."

"I think I am a little insulted by that," Silk told him. She pouted in a pretty manner.

"Not to cast dispersions on your fine establishment."

"And the rest?"

"See if Ghost Hand wants an investor for his next salvage mission, whatever it is. Make some investments around the city. Anything that you are already putting money into will be fine."

"Such trust." Silk turned her chair and put the letters of credit into the cabinet from which she had taken the purse.

"I always know what to bet on."

"I'm sure you do."

He stood up from the chair. "Thank you."

"Where are you going?" Silk asked as she turned back to her desk.

"Not sure. Maybe Nexus, maybe not." Heron picked the purse up from the desk.

"Should I expect to see you back soon?"

Heron smiled. "Who knows? Keep my name out of the purchase of the house and manor."

"Very well."

He smiled at her, then turned and left the office, bouncing the purse, heavy with jade and possibility, in his hand.

Waiting outside of Silk's door was a young woman, one of the Maiden's Kiss's servants. She was holding his weapons. Heron laughed as he took them, sliding the various flame pieces into his over robe, the two flame wands tucked into the crook of his left arm. He handed the woman a few pieces of silver and then walked away.

He left by a discrete servant's door. The entrance to the stable was only a step away. The stable girl was asleep, sitting on a bale of hay, leaning up against one of the stall doors. Heron tapped her lightly on the shoulder and when she woke pressed a pair of silver coins into her hand. "Get my saddle and tack," he said softly.

"Yes sir," she replied, looking at the coins before pocketing them.

Heron moved deeper into the stable, to the stall where Dragon waited. His horse, a dark grey, unassuming stallion, nickered softly as he opened the door. "Been treating you well?" he asked, reaching out towards the horse's head.

Dragon blew though his nostrils, and tapped a metal shod hoof on the floor.

"You look good," he said, running his hands down the horse's long neck. "Ready for a ride?"

He tapped his foot against the floor again and then pushed forward, forcing Heron out of the stall.

Heron smiled as he stepped aside. Then he heard voices outside, one familiar, and he whispered, "Quiet Dragon," and stepped into a patch of deep shadow.

The voice he had recognized was Blondie's.

"…not my fault," Blondie was saying, "I'm sure that they were cheating, and…"

"Shut your mouth," the other said, a commanding, angry tone. "I am not interested in your excuses, just what happened."

The two had come into view, standing in the light of the lanterns. Blondie looked much like he had when he had stormed out earlier that evening. The other was a tall man, dressed in a long cape, a black jade breastplate flashing in the light. He had a daiklaive across his back.

"I was waiting for you Lord Ragara," Blondie said in a deferential tone. "You were late and…"

The Ragara terrestrial grabbed Blondie up by his shirt front and lifted him into the air. "You came here, sat in this den of vice, did not even have the strength of character to avoid your baser temptations, and lost what you were entrusted with. You failed in your duty. You did all this and yet you dare to suggest that I am at fault?"

"No, no my Lord Ragara," Blondie cried.

"While I was dealing with an anathema, you were failing in a simple task. What? Did you think you could win the watch and then keep the jade you were given?" He shook Blondie back and forth like a rag doll.

The stable girl, carrying his saddle and tack, had crept close. Heron put his finger to his lips and the girl nodded.

"Or did you think to present me the watch and the funds in hopes that you would be a hero?" Ragara stopped shaking Blondie and dropped him. "What happened to the watch the Scavenger Lord had?"

Blondie rolled onto his knees. "A woman won it, a cheating prostitute who…"

"Spare me your descriptions. Take me to this woman."

Blondie scrambled to his feet. "This way," he said, and almost ran towards the Maiden's Kiss's main entrance.

Heron waited until they had gone around the building, then reached down and took the saddle from the girl. "That was interesting," he said.

"Yes ma'am."

"Sir actually, but that's okay." He put the saddle across Dragon's back and then began to work on the straps. The girl ducked in to give him a hand. Heron quickly had the saddle on, then pulled a bridle without bit over Dragon's head. As the girl went and opened the stable doors Heron put the saddlebags over Dragon's hindquarters and slid the flame wands into sheaths on each side of the saddle. Dragon's foot falls were unnaturally quiet as Heron led the horse towards the exit.

He stopped and looked down at the girl. "Don't talk to those people unless Silk or someone you trust is with them. Tell them what they want to know, but make sure they pay you well." He smiled down at her and pressed another silver coin into her hand. "Don't bother lying to them."

The girl nodded, her eyes shining. He patted her on the head and then swung himself up on Dragon.

"Good bye," the girl called out softly as he rode away.

Heron directed Dragon around the corner of the stable and towards the gate that led out onto the street. He was a horse length away when a woman stepped through the gate. In the light of the gate lanterns her red jade plate armour shone. She carried a red jade, grand daiklaive casually over her shoulder. Heron brought Dragon to a stop and had the horse side step so the Terrestrial might pass.

She looked at him as she walked by. "Little late for a ride," she said.

"I like the night," he told her, smiling.

For a moment he thought she might ask him more questions, there was a curious look on her face, but she seemed to be in a hurry. She nodded and walked past him. Heron watched her pass and then directed Dragon out of the gate and onto the street.

It did not take Heron long to find what direction the two Terrestrials had come from, just a few questions asked of guards, a little silver. The talk of an anathema had caught his curiosity and he wanted to discover more.

He rode out the gate near the docks and turned west, riding along the Yellow River. He rode fast, unconcerned with the darkness. As he had made his eyesight keen enough to read Jackal's body language he now made his eyesight sensitive enough to see by the light of the stars. And he shared that ability with Dragon.

The horse thundered down the road with a tireless stride, the leagues flashing by as the moon travelled across the sky.

* * *

Heron had heard of the village of Vinleau, famous for its wines and other spirituous drinks. The sun had been up for nearly an hour when he saw the village. The sun's heat had not yet burned a fog from the river, and some of clung to the low fields. The farmers who worked among the grain and rice had a ghostly appearance.

As he got closer he could hear the sounds of construction, hammer and axes on wood, instructions shouted out. He slowed Dragon's gallop to a trot as they entered the village. Following the sounds of construction he found a large group of people, many of them monks, working around the burnt ruins of what had once been a large building.

Rubble was being cleared away as stones were stacked in neat piles and large logs were cut down for construction. A small shrine sat close by and several people were praying at it. People worked hard with a grim determination that made Heron think that what he was seeing was more than just rebuilding after a fire.

He rode Dragon to a water trough and left the horse to drink as he dismounted.

As he walked about he nodded at the people who met his gaze, but everyone was busy, and none seemed to have time to speak with a newcomer.

He saw a monk, sitting off to the side, his left arm wrapped in bandages. As he approached the monk Heron noted the he wore an eye patch, and the side of his face was covered with old scars.

"Good morning," the monk said.

"Morning. Name's Heron. Was wondering what happened here."

"Brother Tadfel," he introduced himself, "have a seat Heron."

"Thank you." Heron sat.

Tadfel reached behind him, into a small box, and brought forth a clay decanter. "Would you like a drink Miss?"

"Please, and I am a man."

"Of course," the monk said, as if he did not believe him, and then poured him a glass of what turned out to be a cold, sweet rice wine.

"That's very good," Heron said after sampling it.

"Praise be to Burning Feather," Tadfel said as he poured himself a drink. "So, you want to know what happened here."

Heron nodded.

"That is a sad story, and a shameful one."

Heron said nothing, just took another sip from his cup.

"There was a child here, named Ivory. No one really knows where she came from; she just showed up at the Inn one day, started working there after a while. A nice enough girl, bit too prone to mischief, but smart enough. I suppose that we all liked her. She was just that sort of girl."

A charming girl, drawing people to her, Heron thought, but did not say.

"Two days ago we had an influx of people, Scavenger Lords, their assistants, other hanger-ons. There were some merchants, a few travellers, and two Dragon Bloods with their servants." He took a drink of his rice wine, then reached for the bottle and refilled both Heron's glass and his own.

"The Dragon Bloods claimed that Ivory was a demon. They said she, the demon, had killed a child on the Blessed Isle and then had taken her shape. Ivory ran away when they confronted her, apparently a Tiger helped her escape."

"A Tiger?"

"That is what people say. Perhaps they were confused, but there was an animal of some sort with her. The girl and her animal escaped, disappeared. One of the men with the Dragon Bloods claimed he had seen the golden demon mark on Ivory's forehead."

"Did anyone else see that?" Heron asked.

"No one has said so, but Ragara Anzar was convinced. He seemed to be a man who angered easily."

Heron nodded, remembering the scene outside of the stable.

"Having found a village where an Anathema had lived, he decided to cleanse it."

"He burnt down the Inn?"

"No, not as such. I suppose even he knew to take direct action would not be wise, not in the Hundred Kingdoms, and in a village claimed by Great Forks. No, he convinced the people of the village to do it. The Dragon Bloods can accomplish much with their words."

"Yes," Heron agreed, taking another drink.

"The people were uncertain, and he made them afraid. He worked that to anger, and offered them hope, if they showed the Dragons that they were truly sorry for their actions, if they offered up some sacrifice. I suspect one of his people first suggested burning down the Inn, but the suggestion was taken up by the villagers soon enough.

"If only some of the brothers had been down here, we might have avoided this." He looked up the hill, towards a far off, stone building. "We live too far away I sometimes think."

"Was anyone hurt?" Heron asked.

"Oh yes," Tadfel nodded. "As compelling as Anzar's words were, there was at least one they would not reach. Maddie Briar, the owner of the Inn, she stood up to him, refusing to hear any ill said of Ivory. I think," he paused and sighed, "no matter. Maddie was very fond of Ivory. She told Anzar that Ivory was no more a monster than he."

"I take it that Anzar did not like that."

"No, and he liked Maddie standing up to him even less. So he turned on her, said that she had been corrupted by the demon. That the only to save her was to send her soul back into the cycle of rebirth."

Heron, who had been about to take another drink, stopped, the cup's rim touching his lip. He took the cup away. "She was killed?"

Tadfel nodded. "Chained to a pillar and put in the fire." There were unshed tears in his eyes. "By people who had called her friend for years and years."

"Anzar had much to answer for," Heron said softly.

"If the gods will."

After emptying his cup, as if Tadfel had made a toast, Heron said, "If the gods will."

Tadfel filled his cup again. "Last night Maddie came back, her body did, an undead abomination."

"And the man truly responsible for her death gone."

Tadfel nodded. "She, it, killed three villagers before I arrived with some other brothers. We kept it from doing more harm." He held up his bandaged arm, "I did not escape unscathed, but it is a small wound. We held it off until the village exorcist could arrive to deal with it."

Heron looked about. "These people, they are all serving their own penance."

"Yes. After Anzar left some sense seemed to return. People saw what they had done. Most of them were shamed."

"It's a crime."

"It might have been worse. Anzar also turned on the children, when he learned that that had all been friends with Ivory."

"What did he do?" Heron felt queasy, not certain if he wanted to know.

"Nothing too terrible, but terrible enough. He had their parents bring them to him, so that he might be sure that they had not been corrupted. If they would not admit that Ivory was a monster, he had their parents switch them.

"Fortunately it did not go on too long. The Abbot came down shortly after it started, angry and full of Burning Feather's blessing. He put an end to it. Anzar left soon after."

Heron reached into his robe and pulled out a shekel of jade. He placed it down in front of the old monk. "Thank you for the drinks."

Tadfel nodded.

Heron stood, looked around, at the people working to rebuild the Inn, and then dropped another shekel beside the first. "Tell me, does anyone know where this Ivory might have gone?"

Tadfel looked up at Heron. He stacked one shekel on top of the other. "Some say she returned as the sun set last night."

Heron said nothing, just waited.

"It might be that some monks saw her and a Tiger heading south, along the Shroud River."

"Thank you."

"Be careful if you follow the Shroud."

"Because of the Anathema?"

"Because the Shroud's source is close to Walker's Realm."

"Thank you for your warning." Heron bowed to the man, then turned and walked towards Dragon.


	5. The Demon at the Tomb

Untruths of Time  
The Demon at the Tomb

Ivory had waited the night out on the plateau, leaning up against Hu for warmth. She had followed the river after leaving the village, climbed up the waterfall, then the hill. Hu had stopped her, told her to wait until the sun rose before continuing.

When the sun finally rose she and Hu continued on. Ivory was not sure where she was going, but she felt a pull that she could only describe as instinctual.

The sun had been up for a few hours when Ivory stumbled across the road. It was made out of a strange material, a glossy substance, like polished marble. It was cracked, and in places the fragments had been heaved up from the ground, but it was still in passable condition.

The river had turned off to the east and was now behind her. The road climbed up a hill, through a stand of thick, tall pines. The hill went off to either side, curving in the distance. Ivory thought suddenly that the hill would curve completely around, forming a ring.

Hu sat close by, watching her.

"This way," Ivory said, and stepped onto the road.

She had only taken a few steps before she felt a sensation as if she had passed through something, a strange feeling on her skin, her eyes feeling itchy for a moment, and almost as if her ears had popped. It did not feel bad, just strange.

She thought Hu felt it as well, something in the way he held himself changed for a moment, but he did not say anything. She wondered about the feeling and what it meant, but put it off as a mystery for another time.

She crested the small rise and found herself looking down into what seemed a large, deep crater. The interior was covered in a thick growth of tall trees, a different sort of pine than those on the outside. Near the bottom of the crater she saw something flashing white; a tall tower, its base lost in the trees, soaring perhaps hundreds of feet into the air.

"No one lives here," Ivory said. The crater gave her a strong impression of being deserted. The road turned and circled the inside the crater's steep walls. Ivory chewed on her lower lip for a moment before continuing to follow the road.

The road circled the crater three times, dropping lower with each loop, before the slope of the crater's sides became gentler. It took almost three hours to walk the periphery three times. She had passed a few places where water had washed away patches of dirt, places where she might see a bit of metal, or something with a dull yellow colour that she guessed might be the end of a bone.

"It's like a huge graveyard," Ivory said as she reached the place in the crater where the road stopped circling the inner wall and instead ran straight towards the centre, to the white tower. She found herself wishing that she had not said that as she suddenly felt scared. Now that they were lower in the crater the white tower was hidden by the tall trees around them.

"Do you want to turn back?" Hu asked her.

Ivory shook her head. "No. I think what I want is here." Though what that might be Ivory did not know.

As she continued forward on the road Ivory thought back to her journey, fleeing from the Imperial City, seeking out a sanctuary. At the time it had seemed like she was just running, randomly taking whatever paths had presented themselves. Had it really been chance that had brought her there?

The sun was high over head when Ivory stepped out from the trees and into the clearing that surrounded the white tower. She stared up at it, thinking that it looked even larger up close. The tower sat 

on a round base of concentric circles, like stairs up to the walls. There were huge boulders piled around the tower's base. Ivory could see no sign of the doors, or windows, or any other way in.

The road led up to the base. Close to the tower, on either side of the road, were buildings. Four on one side, five on another. They were not very large, but the craftsmanship that had gone into each was breathtaking. There was old realm writing on each of the sealed doors, a name and dates.

"They're tombs," she said, moving between the doors. "They all died on the same day and I think none of them was older than sixteen."

"Children," Hu said in agreement.

Ivory nodded. "Children." It made her feel sad in a way that went beyond simply knowing that some children had died long, long ago.

She looked at the tombs for a little while before turning her attention to what had brought her there.

With Hu at her side she circled around the tower, walking on the lowest of the concentric circles. The base did indeed go around the entire tower, and the boulders were also continuous about the tower's lower circumference. On the opposite side of the tower from the road's end Ivory found a deep pool of clear water. It lapped up against the lowest of the stairs and with the sun overhead she could see that it was very deep.

Hu sniffed at the water, then took a small drink and pronounced it safe.

Ivory drank; the water was cold, with a faint and not entirely unpleasant, metallic aftertaste. She found a ledge of stone that went out into the water. She took off her shoes and stockings and waded out into the pool, pulling her skirt up. She stood on the edge of the ledge, the water up to the middle of her thighs, enjoying the cold after the long, hot walk down.

"I wonder if I could swim to the bottom?" She shifted forward slightly, balancing on her heels, looking down.

Hu growled softly behind her. Ivory nodded and took a step back, then turned and splashed over to the step. "Something to try later maybe."  
Leaving her shoes and stockings on the step she climbed the stairs and looked at the boulders. Something had stacked them, using natural features of each stone to lock them in place. It looked as if it would be difficult to move them. The wider base had the weight of all the stone above holding them in place. "Need scaffolding and a crane," she said to herself. But she was not going to easily find such things, and she did not think that they had been put in place by any human agency.

She came around to where she had started, looking down at the road. Ivory thought about it for a moment and then moved away from the tower. Just before the tree line she knelt down and dug her fingers into the dirt.

Hu circled around her, walking out in an increasing spiral, and then moving towards her again. Ivory whispered softly in old realm. She remembered reading some of the words in a book. And she had watched a distant cousin perform the ritual she was trying, or at least some of it--another cousin had caught her watching and had dragged her off for a switching for taking an interest in such things. And many of the words she just somehow knew.

Hours passed and the sun moved across the sky, the shadows of the trees crept over her, a cool caress. Her mouth was dry, her throat a little sore, her fingers cramped up from having them dug into the dark soil for so long. She pulled her fingers from the earth, shaking the dirt from them, as around her the ground shook.

Beneath her the earth rose up, like an air bubble rising out of the water, and Ivory scrambled back on her hands and knees until she was clear of the heaving earth. Hu had moved to her side and watched with her.

A huge head of rock slipped from the soil, coming up almost like a swimmer surfacing; or a baby being born. A vast arm made up of boulders, between which glowed molten rock, slid free and it placed its hand on the ground. With what sounded like a grunt it heaved itself out. In a moment it was free of the earth's embrace.

An earth elemental, many times taller than a man, and much broader across the shoulders than any man would be, knelt there. It stared down at Ivory with black eyes of obsidian.

Ivory got to her feet, deciding she did not want to deal with the elemental while she was on her hands and knees.

"I have summoned you to perform a service for me. You will clear the rocks from around the tower."

The elemental and the summoner locked gazes, and the elemental shifted about, one of its hands clenching so that the stone ground together and the heat radiating from it blackened the grass.

Hu moved between the giant elemental and Ivory, tensing up, ready to spring, but then the elemental relaxed its fist. "I will do as you command Lady of the Copper Spiders." It stood and moved towards the tower without a further word. Ivory let out a breath she had not been aware of holding.

She reached out to run a hand across Hu's neck, leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Thank you."

Hu purred softly.

"I cannot move these stones," the Elemental said, his deep voice the sound of stones rolling down a hill.

"Why not?" Ivory asked, turning to face him.

The elemental stood on the top of the stairs, his head slightly above the highest stone. It looked down at her. "There is magic locking these stones together, too powerful for me to break."

Ivory went to stand near the elemental, trying to see between the rocks. She again walked around the tower, sometimes standing on the boulders as she searched out the magic the elemental spoke of. When she reached the side of her summoned servant she told it to move away. She herself descended the stairs and stared up at the tower.

She looked over her shoulder and saw the elemental standing some distance off. "You better move away too," she told Hu. The tiger circled around her once, then bounded off to the edge of the trees.

Ivory put her hands together as her caste mark blazed to life on her forehead. When she pulled her hands apart threads of golden sunlight connected them. Like playing with a cat's cradle she deftly formed the threads of sunlight into a rune. Freeing her hands from it she pushed it away from her so it sped towards the tower.

It was as if lighting had struck, for there was both a flash of light, blue shot through with gold, and a rumbling boom like thunder. Several boulders were blasted free of the pile, some exploding as they flew high into the air. A wash of energy expanded out in front of her, around the tower, throwing up geysers of water from the pond and stripping leaves and small branches from the closest of the trees.

Ivory felt a pressure push back on her and she was knocked her off her feet and onto her bottom. She stared wide eyed, amazed.

The ground shook as the elemental walked towards her. It stopped and looked down at her. "I'll move the stones now."

Ivory nodded.

Stones were removed and carried away from the tower. In a little more than an hour later all the boulders had been cleared away and stacked neatly in a pyramid.

"I have completed the task," it said.

"Then we are done. I release you from your summons. Thank you."

The elemental moved to the area from where it had come. Ivory watched as it sank into the earth, slipping quickly beneath the surface. The ground rippled like water as its head disappeared, and then it was still once more.

Once it was gone she turned back to the tower.

The base of the tower was unmarked, the same white stone as the rest of it. There was a single set of doors, tall, and narrow. Each portal was marked in gold tracery, a strange, fanciful pattern. She walked up the stairs and stopped on the top step. Where the boulders had been she found a pattern of gold, silver, and jade, similar in design to what was on the door. Her curiosity piqued, she followed the pattern. It encircled the entire tower, a complex series of geometric patterns, never quite repeating.

"It's a ward of some sort," she said to Hu.

"Yes." He sat near the doors, watching her.

"I wonder what it keeps out?" She ran her finger along it. "Goes deep into the rock. Maybe need to destroy the entire tower to remove it." She straightened, took one last look at the ward, and then walked to the door. The next mystery.

It did not take her long to discover how to unlock it. After staring at it for a few seconds she caused her caste mark to shine, letting the light fall on a sun symbol near the center of the doors. There was a click and both halves of the door swung outwards. The air that rolled out of the tower was stale and musty. Ivory took a step back and sneezed.

Hu took a step in, his mouth partly opened. "There is nothing in here," he said.

Ivory opened the doors fully, so sun light and fresh air might get in, then she entered. The ceiling was perhaps 20 feet above her, the room divided in half by a wall with a single, closed door in it. There was a large, golden, rectangular object not far from the doors, the light from the sun shone through the door and fell on it.

It was a sarcophagus. Its top was a relief of a woman, lying as if asleep. The sarcophagus was higher than Naomi was tall, so she had to climb up on it. She was kneeling by the side of the relief, looking down at woman depicted. Dressed in armour, a daiklaive's hilt in her hands, she was beautiful. Ivory traced a finger on the golden face, thinking that she looked fearsome and confident as well as beautiful.

She slid down from the sarcophagus. "Help me slide the top off," Ivory said to Hu.

Hu stood at the doorway, looking in. He seemed reluctant as he stepped in.

"Quickly." Ivory said impatiently.

Hu moved close, and then leapt up, putting his forepaws against the top. He pushed his weight against it, and the top began to slide.

It stopped suddenly and was pushed back into place.

Hu growled.

Ivory looked around.

A thing with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a serpent stood, as it were, by the sarcophagus, her hand on the lid she had just sealed . She had a wide face, with a small nose, and black eyes. The narrow lips of her mouth were almost the white of her skin. She was naked, but for a long cloak. Across her belly were faint marks, like the scales of her snake body. Her hair was long and was like the night sky, strange gradients of darkness with pinpoints of light within it.

Hu had leapt back and stared at the thing, growling lowly.

She looked at the tiger for a moment, sneering. "Silence servant, I have business with your mistress." For some reason Ivory expected her speech to be sibilant, but the old realm she spoke was, while strangely accented, spoken as clearly as Ivory might.

"Harm her and I'll destroy you," Hu said.

She laughed, and turned away from him, focusing instead of Ivory. Slithering forward, she stared down at the girl. "I will allow no thieves to take anything from this place," she said, "even if they are chosen of the Sun." She paused. "Unless of course it is she who set me this duty." Moving quickly the snake woman encircled Ivory in her coils, rising up above her. "Do you make that that claim?"

Ivory looked about her. All she needed to do was reach out to touch the scales of the guardian. They looked cool and smooth and she found herself wondering if they felt that way.

Hu was growling louder, pacing around the snake woman.

Ivory looked up at her. "I don't know," she said.

The guardian's laughter was strangely warm. "Such honesty I would not have expected, but you have been gone long. Perhaps in that time lessons have been learned. Tell me the name by which you once called me, tell me or leave."

Ivory started up into the black eyes, her mind gone strangely quiet. Hypnotized by the serpent's gaze, like a mouse, she thought. Without thinking she said, "Mouse Bane."

It seemed like an insane thing to say, but the snake woman only laughed, and moved away from Ivory. "It seems so long ago that you first called me that and I find I dislike it as much as I did then."

"Then what you would like me to call you?" Ivory asked.

She looked surprised, as far as Ivory could read her alien face. She began to circle about Ivory, as if to examine her from all sides.

Hu paced around Ivory as well, watching the snake woman.

"I am called Darengest, the Frost on the blossom. You can call me Darengest."

Ivory found herself turning in place to watch Darengest. "What are you doing here, why are you guarding this place?"

Darengest laughed. "You don't remember. No, of course you don't. And yet you might," she sounded as if she were speaking to herself. "You yourself told me to watch this place, by the second favour of the five."

"I did?"

Darengest stopped. Ivory was still turning and had to turn back. "You did, or the one who held your Exaltation before. She came in here dying, the poison already burning through her veins. She sealed the Tower and told me to keep out all who would attempt to enter until she returned."

"And you have been here ever since demon," Hu growled. "I do not believe it."

She laughed haughtily. "Of course not. I am not such a minor functionary to simply sit in a forgotten tomb. I put those that served me to that task. But then when I heard the Solars were returning, I came here myself, in hopes that you might come. It has been a long time and I had grown bored."

"Why would you want to meet me?"

Again Darengest laughed. "To kill you perhaps."

Ivory gasped and Hu leapt forward, putting himself between her and the demon.

"Be at peace servant," she said contemptuously to Hu, "I will not kill your mistress. I will not be the agency that brings about a child's end."

Hu did not move, but remained in a crouch, ready to leap.

"What will you do now?" Ivory asked, frightened and curious at the same time.

"That is up to you. You can end my service here, and I will return Malfeas, or perhaps you might have another service for me?"

Ivory shook her head.

Darengest started at her for several seconds, then said, "How long has it been since the most perfect of the gods chose a child as one of his champions? What great feat did you accomplish child, what did you do to be chosen?"

There was something about Darengest, her manner, her tone of voice, which made Ivory believe that she might trust her, that with this one being she might enjoy a level of safety. It was, she thought, an incredibly foolish belief. A small voice spoke in her mind, saying, 'you do not trust such creatures, you subjugate them by an act of will and always watch your back.'

"I was very smart," Ivory said.

"I see. How interesting. Why did you come here?"

Hu Growled.

"If I may be so impertinent to ask," she said, laughing.

"I came looking for weapons and power."

"I can give you power." Darengest leaned close to Ivory.

Ivory backed up.

Hu roared and leapt at the demon. Darengest grabbed him from the air and then hurled him across the room. The tiger twisted in the air, hit the wall feet first, and sprung safely away from the wall, across the room, and onto the sarcophagus. Ivory suddenly felt the demon's long fingered hand encircle her neck, while with her other hand she gently stroked Ivory's cheek. Hu moved forward but Darengest looked at him and said, "Hold your anger servant, I offer no danger to your mistress."

Ivory nodded at Hu, feeling frightened, but not threatened.

Darengest looked back to Ivory, meeting her gaze. "Do you know me?" the demon said, leaning in close to Ivory.

Her voice would not come to her, and Ivory shook her head, then she swallowed to moisten her throat and said, "No."

"I am Darengest, called the Frost on the Blossom, for it was my pleasure to witness the death of the children of any of the beasts in creation. Not a chick fell from its nest, not a fry was snapped up by a whale, not a child died of starvation that I did not know. I witnessed and then, when my master demanded, I sang these deaths into a dirge so beautiful that mortals who heard it would weep blood and from that day on would laugh with happiness if they heard of a child's death for they knew that the beauty of my song would only grow."

Ivory trembled and wondered if Darengest was about to sing such a dirge now. She fervently hoped not, for it sounded like a cursed thing.

"No being loved children more than I, for only I could truly appreciate the transitory nature of their true beauty, the transitory nature of their innocence, and to remember them all when their innocence was still pure. I watched them die, but never," she put her lips next to Ivory's ear and whispered, "never would I hurt them. I could not save them, but I never harmed them."

She took her hand from around Ivory's throat and instead shifted it to her shoulder. Moving back slightly, so she could look into Ivory's eyes she said, "I could not save them from death, but it was given to me to save them from one fate. To those who I chose I would ensure they never grew up. They would certainly die, but they would die in my purview.

"Do you know that when the battle came those who I had blessed were sought out and killed? I should be angry, but I am not. I was able to observe their deaths, before I was imprisoned, and in that those who hated me gave me a gift that they never knew." She traced her fingers gently over Ivory's lips. "Not once since then have I given my blessing, though there have been those that have asked for it. Can you guess one who might have begged such a boon?"

Ivory looked towards the Sarcophagus.

Darengest laughed as she looked to the Sarcophagus and the Tiger that still stood upon it. "Yes. She loved her children dearly, and despaired of their growing up at times. But I refused her!" She hissed, and again moved her face close to Ivory's. "Even by the favours I owed her, even by the force of her will by which she could summon and bind me, I still refused her that.

"And now, after so long, I find myself wanting to bless a child." She laughed softly. "And by your existence you'll remind the traitors of my existence, and your master will know that even yet I might touch his chosen."

"No," Ivory said, trying to pull away from Darengest, but the demon clutched her shoulder tighter.

"I would not force my blessing on you child. But I offer it to you, with the power you seek."

"No," Hu growled.

"It was not and is not your choice servant," she said to Hu, her lips forming a snarl. "It is for this child to decide. Power and knowledge, with your soul untainted. That is not an offer any of my brethren would make. All you have to give up is growing up."

"Ivory," Hu growled.

Ivory opened her mouth to refuse, but no words came out. She was seeing a burnt Inn, and a body chained to a pillar. She was remembering two adults, well armed and so cruel. Did she really want to grow up to be something like that? And had she not come seeking power? Perhaps she had even known that Darengest would be awaiting here.

"I accept," she said.

She heard Hu growl, the sound angry, and quite probably disapproving.

The demon smiled and then opened her mouth. Perfect white teeth and a pair of long, sharp fangs. With her hand she pushed Ivory's blouse aside, baring her collar bone. Her head descended and her teeth pierced the skin just above bone. A burning sensation filled Ivory, not painful, but by no means pleasant. The skin above her chest burned, and she felt her legs grow weak under her. Darengest held her up and she did not fall.

She thought she heard Hu, but could not be sure for her ears were filled with strange sounds. Her vision grew blurry and she suddenly felt more exhausted than she could ever recall. She fell asleep, thinking that it would good to sleep and perhaps never wake again.

* * *

Darengest lifted her face from Ivory. Her eyes met those of Hu and she smiled, her long tongue licking the child's blood from her fangs. "You need not fear. She will awake in time; everything will be as I promised. Protect her well servant."

Holding Ivory up with one arm, she pulled her cloak off, fully revealing her naked body. She wrapped the girl up in the folds of the nearly black cloak, and then carried her carefully to the far corner of the room. Gently, as if she handled spun glass, she lowered Ivory to the floor. She tucked the cloak in tightly around her, smoothed the hair away from her face, and then leaned down to kiss her forehead.

She backed away from the girl, her lower, snake body propelling her. Hu crossed the floor and stood over Ivory. The demon laughed. "I'm glad I leave her in such capable hands, as it were. Remind her that she may still call me for three favours. Tell her that I will enjoy seeing her again."

And then the demon was gone.

Hu padded around the room as if to be certain that there were no more threats within. Then, with what seemed very much like a sigh, he lay down beside Ivory.


	6. Meeting amongst the dead

Meeting amongst the dead

Heron knew he had passed through a barrier of some sort as he climbed the raise. It was not a shadowland, for he had entered those before, but something else. As he crested the small hill he found himself staring down into a crater. Dragon shifted nervously under him and he gently stoked his horse's neck until it calmed. His gaze drifted to a small shoe print in the dirt between cracked pieces of the road. He had found traces of the girl's passage, though none of the rumoured tiger.

It had taken him most of the day to get there, riding along the river, having to circle wide around certain places that were impassable, even to a horse as nimble as Dragon.

So why had had the girl come here, he wondered. He supposed that there was only one way to find out.

He flipped the reins gently and Dragon started down the road into the crater.

It was dark under the thick trees. In places where the trees thinned and he could see the sun was low in the sky. Not long until night fell. He reached behind him and loosened his flame wands in their sheaths and urged Dragon to trot.

He did not see the sun set but he knew when it had dipped beneath the horizon. The little light that was filtering between the leaves winked out, and even if he was deep underground he would know if the sun were not in the sky.

In the near perfect darkness he heard the sounds of movement around him, as well as a hissing. As he reached into his over robe he said softly to Dragon "Be ready to run, and watch your eyes." The package he pulled out was made up of flame powder and a wad of lamp oil soaked, wick material. He hurled it away with a flick of his wrist and reached back to put his hand on the stock of a flame wand. He closed his eyes.

When the package smashed on the ground the flame powder went off with a bright flash that he saw through his eyelids. He opened his eyes, the wick material was spread out around the point of impact, burning brightly. In the light he saw things amongst the trees, loping towards him. Hungry ghosts, he thought as he drew the flame wand.

His caste mark lit up and golden sunlight radiated off him. A huge cloud of flame belched forth from the barrel of his weapon, spreading out through the trees. Ghosts screamed as they burnt. Dragon leapt forward as soon as Heron fired, galloping down the road.

Heron returned the spent flame wand to its sheath and drew the second one. From his belt he took a flame piece. With a weapon in each hand he let Dragon have his head. The horse ran with a jarring gait, but Heron would not fall from his horse's back as long as he lived.

Several hungry ghosts tried to block the road, but a blast of fire from both weapons sent them fleeing into the woods, burning. One he drove back with a butt smack from his flame wand, cracking the thing's skull in two. He stowed the spent weapons and drew two loaded flame pieces in their stead.

Dragon had to slow slightly, the road too cracked and broken for the horse to run full out. Behind them came a group of running, screaming ghosts. Heron leaned back over Dragon's hindquarters, pistols extended, neck craned, looking directly behind them.

The aura around him grew even brighter as he fired, an inferno launching itself from the barrels of his weapons. The ghosts screamed and fell.

Heron sat back up, trading the two spent flame weapons for two loaded ones, one of them the tiny flame piece he had used at the card table less than a day before. A moment later those two weapons were expended to clear the road for Dragon's flight. He tucked them into his belt and then swung his arms out to the side.

In each hand a large, plasma tongue repeater appeared. The weapons were golden, with red jay inlay. They shone in the luminosity of his amina, catching the light and scattering it around him. He swung the weapon in his right hand forward. The red jade flashed brightly as he pulled the trigger.

From the barrel a concentrated ball of light flew, leaving a red afterimage behind it. When it hit it exploded in a ball of plasma that reduced the ghost to ash.

Heron shifted about on Dragon's back, riding side saddle, reversed, once hanging upside down to fire between Dragon's legs. He wondered if there was any end to the dead as he and Dragon reached a place where the road flattened out and ran straight.

His hands moved so fast they blurred, motes of light gathering around them, as he reloaded both of the pistols. Snapping the cylinders closed he brought both together in front of him and fired a double barrel blast at the ghosts that tried to stop him.

The straight, nearly level road allowed Dragon to lengthen his stride, and in a moment he was flying down the road. Heron kept his pistols ready, seeking out threats, but they were moving too fast for anything to get at them.

Suddenly they were out of the trees and ahead of him was the white tower, shining in the light of the stars, the moon and his anima. It was surrounded by ghosts, creatures screaming and bellowing. Heron brought his weapons around, then checked his impulse to fire.

They seemed to be ignoring him.

Curious, he galloped Dragon around the tower, the horse leaping across a pool of water at one point. It seemed as if something kept them back from the tower. Dragon clattered up the stairs, and they passed close, Heron blasting away several of the ghosts with his pistols. He reached out over the heads of the ghosts to discover whatever was keeping the ghosts back did not seem to impede him, or at least his hand.

"Let's see what is happening," he called out as he rapidly fired, clearing a large hole in the ghosts for Dragon to pass through.

It was like stepping into a room and closing the door. The screams of the dead seemed muted, and the overwhelming sense of dread about them was gone. Dragon turned in the narrow area between the tower wall and the ward. Heron looked back at the dead, seeing more were coming, running towards the tower, pressing themselves up against the ward until it forced them back.

Dragon's hooves rung out reassuringly as he circled the tower. The greatest concentration of the ghosts were gathered about the open doors of the tower. So great was their weight that the ones in front were being forced against the ward, the arcane forces of the barrier tearing them apart.

"Circle around to the other side," he told Dragon as he dismounted. "If the ward comes down, run."

Dragon made a sound to show what he thought of that idea, but he trotted off, disappearing around the tower's curve. Heron stepped close to the door, then looked over his shoulder to see the head of one of the ghosts disintegrate, its body falling to the ground to be trampled by its fellows. They really wanted to get at whatever was inside the tower.

His anima glowing like a bonfire, he stepped within. A golden sarcophagus threw the light of his anima back in his eyes, dazzling his vision for a moment. He blinked the spots away, turning his gaze away from it, looking about for anything else that might be within.

He saw the bundle on the floor before he saw the tiger. He was halfway across the floor before the glowing eyes appeared in the shadow, followed a moment later by the beast. It regarded him as it stood near the bundle. Heron was almost certain it looked at the caste mark shining on his forehead. After a moment the tiger moved a few steps from the bundle and then sat down.

"If you don't like what I'm doing, give me at least some warning before you do anything violent," Heron said to the tiger. As he approached the tiger and the bundle it was watching over, he hooked his pistols to his belt, trying to look less threatening. "So, are you the god of this place? Those angry ghosts trying to get at you or something? Hope you don't mind the questions, I'm just curious."

The tiger was silent.

He knelt down by the bundle; a small child was wrapped in the dark cloth, her pale face peeking out of the folds. On her forehead, almost too faint to see, glittered a golden mark of a setting sun. He gently brushed her red hair back from her forehead to better see. Her skin felt hot, not quite feverish, but warmer than he thought was normal. Shifting his attention back and forth between the girl and the tiger, making certain the tiger did not take offence at anything he did, he unwrapped her from the strange cloth that enshrouded her.

Her blouse was loose, and he saw a bit of blood on it. Just above her shoulder blade were two, small puncture marks. The skin around it was red, and slightly warmer than the rest of her. He found no other signs of wounds on her. She was breathing well enough, and looked as if she were just sleeping. He carefully wrapped her again in the cloth and then looked at the tiger.

"I don't think you wrapped her up like that," he looked at the animal's paws and the very dangerous claws on it. "And no way your teeth made those puncture marks."

The Tiger simply stared back at him.

Heron nodded and then got up. "Guess I can't expect you to speak. Pardon me."

He left the tiger and the girl and went to get Dragon. The house whickered nervously when he smelled the tiger, but Heron reassured him and then brought Dragon into the Tower.

After stripping saddle and bridle from the horse he poured out a measure of grain on the floor and filled a battered, tin bowl with water. "Get some rest," Heron told Dragon, then walked to the door and looked out at the ghosts. There were even more there. "Gods, what happened here?" he asked as he reached out and pulled the doors closed.

He suspected that they would never get past that ward, but he would rest better with a closed door between him and the dead.

* * *

_Ivory had not remembered the manse being so large. Seven Folded Lotus perched on the edge of a large, shallow lake. Ivory thought she knew every corner of it, but as she moved through it she was finding doorways she did not know had existed. And within the rooms, instead of familiar sights, she was seeing things she had never conceived of before._

_Some doors closed as she approached, so she only managed to peek in at things so wondrous that they took her breath away. Other doors were locked tightly. Ivory avoided those. She had tried to open one, but just touching the handle had made her feel ill._

_Still, even with the locked doors and the doors that closed as she got close there was still so much to see. She passed by some rooms, only glancing in, nodding, and thinking, 'oh, of course, I understand that'. Some rooms she had to stop and stare at everything within, trying to understand what she was seeing. In time she would pass by those rooms as well, satisfied she understood._

_Never once did she enter any of the rooms, instead staying in the hallways. Nor could she recall seeing a window that looked outside of the familiar and yet unfamiliar manse. There were also no people, neither servant nor family._

_She did not think on this too much for it seemed unimportant compared to seeing as many rooms as she could. As time went on she began to run, her bare feet slapping on the ceramic tile, slowing only to gaze into each room. It was all she needed to gain the understanding she sought._

_Time seemed to have no meaning for it was as if she had been running for weeks. She began to find the doors that had closed as she had approached them before were now open, and she was able to gaze within, completely understanding what she saw._

_Then there were only the locked doors, and they still would not open._

_She began to panic as she ran through the manse, beginning to dwell on why there were no windows that let her look outside, why there was no one in the building. She was breathing heavily, casting about, trying to find something._

_Then she saw the doorway, and the light shining from within it. She turned and ran down a set of stairs, focusing on the light. How long she ran, along corridors and down stairs, she did not know. For the longest time she felt as if she would never reach it._

_When it began to loom larger she cried out in relief, and she was laughing with joy as she leapt through._

* * *

"The sun's up," Ivory said, opening her eyes to only a dim light. She tried to sit up, but something was wrapped around her tightly. As she fought her way out of the cloth she heard Hu growl softly. There was more noise, the sound of a horse, and the area around her grew brighter.

Ivory finally managed to shrug off the cloak she had been wrapped in and sit up. Hu stood close by, watching her. There was a horse some distance away, looking as if it had just woken up. By the horse, leaning up against a wall, holding a lantern, was a beautiful woman.

"Who are you?" Ivory demanded.

"Heron Jade Eyes," the woman said, smiling.

"He is a chosen of the sun, like you," Hu told her.

"He?" Ivory shifted her gaze to Hu.

"You can speak to the Tiger?" Heron asked.

Ivory nodded. "You're really a man?"

He smiled and nodded. "Most people don't believe it, and the way I often convince them would be rather inappropriate."

Ivory turned her head to the side, staring at him. A moment later she felt her cheeks grow warm as she realised what he had meant.

"I would say that this is not the best way that we might handle this introduction," Heron said as he got to his feet. He walked over to where Ivory sat on the floor. He knelt down in front of her, and then lowered his head. "I am Heron Jade Eyes, once of Paragon and now of nowhere in particular. I am chosen of the Unconquered Sun." When he raised his head Ivory could see a golden mark glittering on his forehead, a circle surrounded by a ring. "Long ago they called my kind the Quicksilver Falcons and I am here to offer you my help."

For a moment Ivory did not know what to say. She had almost shouted 'Anathema' when his caste mark had appeared, and then had almost started giggling as she realised this absurdity of such a thought. Instead she finished unwrapping herself from the cloak, shifted onto her knees, and bowed her head as he had.

"I am Peleps Ivory, but my family wouldn't accept me now, probably. I was born in the Seven Folded Lotus manse, in Juche prefecture, but I can't go back there." She raised her head and made her caste mark glitter. "They called my kind the Copper Spiders."

"I am pleased to meet you Ivory Golden Eyes." He smiled at her.

He was, Ivory thought, so pretty, and she felt her heart beat quickly in his chest as her cheeks once more grew warm. She reached out and took his hand. "I am," she stumbled over her words, "I am pleased to meet you too. Heron Jade Eyes." She had been well schooled in manners and etiquette, though no one had ever taught her to properly introduce herself to Anathema.

"Now that the formalities are out of the way," he said as he released Ivory's hand, "can you tell me where we are?"

"This is the Manse of the White Thorn," Ivory said proudly, and then wondered how she knew that.

"Did you know it from," he paused and looked uncomfortable, "from your life before."

Ivory nodded. "I think I've been coming here since I fled cause it's safe."

"The woods are full of hungry ghosts," Heron told her.

Ivory thought about that for a moment. "Okay, maybe not as safe as I thought."

"At least they could not get over the ward outside."

"They couldn't? Oh. Good."

He looked at her for several seconds. "I think you are luckier than you deserve. I should teach you to play cards."

"You said you were here to help me. Why?" It was, Ivory thought, a little like a story, with a beautiful prince rescuing a princess.

"Beyond the most obvious reason that there is strength in numbers, it will take a little time to tell. And I would rather tell it on a full stomach."

Being reminded of food made Ivory's stomach rumble. "Yeah, I guess," she said, casting her gaze downwards. In the stories the heroine's stomachs never grumbled in such an embarrassing fashion.

He smiled and stood, then walked towards the doors.

Ivory looked to Hu and asked, "What do you know about him?"

"He treats his horse well."

"That seems right."

"Right for what?" Hu asked her.

Ivory did not say, not wanting to voice her childish thoughts.

Heron pushed open the doors, letting the morning light into the room. The sarcophagus glowed in the sun and Ivory was struck by the thought that her body, in a way, occupied the tomb. How very strange. She got to her feet and walked out of the tower, looking around. The ground around the tower was torn up, as if a large number of beings had been outside. The ghosts that Heron mentioned she supposed.

Heron came out of the tower, leading his horse. Ivory stepped out of the way, watched him take the horse around the tower. She guessed he was taking it to the pool of water. Looking around, at the tower, the tombs, the road and the forested crater she realised she knew more about all of them then she had when she had first come there.

Some of it she wished she did not.

"What did she do to me?" Ivory asked aloud.

"You cannot trust demons," Hu said.

Ivory supposed that he was right, but the reasons she had made her decision the night before were still valid. "I needed knowledge, she gave it to me."

Hu said nothing.

Ivory walked down to the closest tomb, read the name on it: 'Jiman'. She suddenly pictured a boy, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, handsome, with short, spiky black hair and brown eyes.

Hu had come over to her side and sat beside her. She looked at him and said, "Not gave it to me, just made me remember."

"Demons can't be trusted."

"No, I guess not."

Ivory turned away from the tombs, not wanting to read the names. Instead she entered the tower and sat down with her back against the sarcophagus. Through the open doors she saw Heron's horse wandering around the around the tombs, chewing at small patches of grass. She smelt smoke not long after and went to seek the source.

Heron had built a fire on the lowest step. He looked up at her when she came out of the tower and said, "There is a small pot in my gear, and a red bag full of rice. Can you get them for me?"

"Okay." She turned and went back into the tower.

When she came back out Heron had gone so she put the rice down and went behind the tower to fill the pot with water. She had just put the pot on to boil the water when he returned. "Not much of an outdoorsman," he said, placing some leafy green plants beside the fire, "but I found herbs and some roots that should make this a decent enough breakfast."

Ivory sat on the step and watched Heron make their breakfast. They talked about some rather inconsequential things, the weather and such. He wrapped the rice up on a leaf of some sort and handed one of the rolls to Ivory. They ate in silence. The morning warmed up around them, the mist hanging over the forest burning away.

"Why did you come looking for me?" Ivory asked once she had finished eating.

Heron took a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and used it to wipe at the corners of his mouth and his hands before handing it to Ivory.

"I was in Great Forks, playing cards," he said without preamble. "I heard tale of an Anathema and I sought you out to see if you were a Solar like myself, to offer help if you needed it, and in hopes of finding someone I might work with. Strength in numbers, as I mentioned."

Ivory thought about it. She could picture herself doing the same thing, were she to hear tales about Anathema, especially if the description sounded like they were other Chosen of the Sun.

"That's the simple story. There is of course more to it."

Ivory nodded. "Please tell me."

"Anzar Ragara, does the name mean anything to you."

Ivory remembered the Ragara mon on the man who had tried to grab her as she ran for the door, the one who may have seen the caste mark on her forehead. "No, but I saw a member of the Ragara family."

"Terrestrial Exalted?"

She shook head. "Armed servant."

"Anzar is a Terrestrial."

Ivory frowned. "Tall, with long, dark hair and a black jade breastplate?"

He nodded. "That sounds like him."

"I want him dead," Ivory said suddenly. "Him and the Cathak woman with him, and all their servants."

"Because they killed Maddie Briar?"

It was almost as if she had been hit in the stomach. She felt as if she could not draw air into her lungs, and her insides hurt. She bunched the handkerchief up and put it against her eyes. She heard Heron get up, 

felt him sit down beside her, put an arm over her shoulder. She leaned into him, pressing the handkerchief against her eyes as she cried.

She did not cry for long though. She would have thought that she had cried herself out, but Herron's mention of Maddie had taken her by surprise.

"Let me tell you what happened," Heron said.

Ivory remained where she was, for the moment happy to let someone hold her.

"I've only seen Anzar once and did not think too much of him. And then I heard about him and thought even less. Anzar Ragara is a man who was sent to the Scavenger Lands against his wishes. He did not like people who respected the fact he was powerful, but no more than they respected the power of all the other beings that lived there. No one saw him as a rightful ruler of Creation. He's not a man that could accept that."

"It's like you know him well," Ivory said, her voice soft and muffled.

"Just seeing him once, and hearing about him, it's easy to figure him out."

Ivory nodded, not sure if she believed what he was saying, but was content enough to listen.

"So when he discovered what he thought was a demon, he wanted to do something about it. He could not act directly, not in territory claimed by Great Forks, not if he wanted to complete his mission. So he convinced uncertain people that they were really scared. Made scared people want to be safe, and convinced them to do what they never would have otherwise.

"You said you came from the Blessed Isle. Tell me, what chance do mortals have against a Terrestrial that wants to convince them to do something?"

"Not much," Ivory said, remembering times she had heard stories of various relatives doing just what Heron said.

"So people who would have probably been happier just going on with their lives, ignoring the claims of some Islander ended up doing what they never wanted to do. Something that is going to cause them great regret for a long time."

Heron did not say anything else. He took his arm from Ivory and stood up.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ivory asked, looking up at him.

"Because I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened there Golden Eyes. It was horrible and wrong, but it was not your fault. And if you are going to kill Anzar because of the guilt you feel you are just going to be hurting yourself."

Ivory shook her head. "I want to believe that it wasn't my fault." She sniffed.

"You're going to have to. I won't let you kill Anzar unless you do."

Ivory looked at him, certain there was a look of stupid surprise on her face. "How?"

"I'll kill him myself. I've been planning to make sure he dies since I heard of what he did from the monk."

"That's not fair!"

He laughed. "It's not supposed to be fair. You're a child, that's not fair, you shouldn't have to deal with this, but you are and you will. I'll kill Anzar because of his crimes. I'll let you kill him, if that is what you want, if you are seeking to make him pay for his crimes. I won't let you kill him because you are hoping revenge will make you feel better little girl, because that's not justice and it won't actually work."

Ivory got to her feet, letting the handkerchief drop. She wanted to say something to Heron, but she could think of nothing. She turned and stalked away from him, away from the tower. Hu fell in beside her. She looked at him. "Do you think he is right?" She sniffed and used the sleeve of her blouse to wipe at her nose

Hu did not answer.

Ivory found a place beneath the trees where she could sit down and hide away. For the moment she just wanted to be alone.


	7. Grave Goods of a Child

Chapter 7  
The Grave Goods of a Child

Heron watched Ivory run off and he did not bother following. The girl had to figure some things out for herself. He had to hope she could. She was Chosen. That spoke highly for her, and she had, in the short time he had known her, shown surprising maturity.

He walked into the tower, picked up his lantern, and began to look around. He had already given the place a cursory look over the night before. Now he wanted to be thorough. He started with the door that led further into the tower. It was composite of jade, orichalcum and moonsivler, looked thick, and did not move no matter what he tried.

The walls occupied his attention for a short time, but Heron had little experience with uncovering secret doors and the like. If there was anything there it was soon obvious he was not going to find it.

He then went to the sarcophagus, examined it, and finally tried to push the lid off.

It did not move.

"I suppose that I'm not meant to find out this place's secrets," he said, giving up.

He wandered around the outside of the tower, curious as to what might have happened there. There were small clues, bits of jade armour, pieces of what were probably broken weapons, and bones. Long ago there had been an impressive battle in this area. It explained the hungry ghosts. He supposed a lot of people had died in terrible ways, furious with their slayer.

When he came back to the tower he found Ivory sitting in front of the doors, on the steps. Pulled over her shoulders was the cloak he had found her wrapped up in. The tiger lay above her, its golden brown eyes moving back and forth, watching everything.

She looked up at him. "Are you really going to kill him?" she asked.

He walked over to her and took a seat on the step below her, so their eyes were nearly level. "Do you know what they called us, the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, so long ago?"

Ivory shook her head.

"They called us Lawgivers. It suggests to me a purpose. I'm going to kill him, or do my best to do so."

"You think he's a criminal?"

"Yes." He suspected that Ivory was trying to work something out, to put her thoughts in order.

Ivory frowned. "The Immaculate Order would say that's wrong. They'd say that his actions are just because he performed them."

"It's another reason for me not to like the Immaculate Philosophy, beyond the obvious that they want me dead on principal. So, had Anzar killed a person you did not care about, would you want him dead?"

Ivory started at him for several seconds. "I don't know," she said.

"Put aside your desire to kill him until you do."

He thought she might protest, it seemed as if she were about to open her mouth to do just that, but then she closed her mouth and nodded. A small victory, Heron thought.

"Are you going to hunt him down?" she asked.

"I think I can be certain that he will come to me."

"How?"

Heron brought forth the watch he had won, holding it up by its chain. "He's looking for this."

Ivory stared it and asked, "What is it?"

"A watch of some sort." He opened it and then handed it to Ivory.

She took it carefully, holding it in both her hands, and looked at it. "I think it's very old," she told him, and then closed the cover. For several seconds she examined, and then said, "The markings are Old Realm, but, I can't make sense of it." She sounded almost angry, as if it was a personal affront to her.

Heron could not help but smile as he watched her examine the watch, her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on it. She was holding it in both hands, running her thumbs along the edge. Then her eyes widened slightly and she pressed upon the cover with her right thumb.

There was a click and the watch sprung open, parts flying everywhere.

Heron kept himself from an angry outburst, telling himself she was, after all, just a child, and probably had not meant to break the watch. And it's only importance was brining Anzar to him. He was about to tell Ivory not to worry when he realised that the pieces were not flying all over the place, but expanding out in an orderly fashion.

Ivory held both halves of the casing in her hands as the interior of the watch had formed a three dimensional pattern above. Even as Heron watched the gears and springs were still expanding outwards, changing, some of them seeming to melt and reform into new shapes.

"I can't believe that the watch had that much inside of it," was all he could think to say.

Ivory nodded, her attention focused completely on what was forming out of the parts. Heron watched as well, but more often he was watching Ivory. It was like gambling, more important to watch the person than the cards. Her attention completely focused, Heron thought that he was seeing more of Ivory's true character.

He liked what he saw.

"I think it's settled on a pattern," Ivory told him.

"It's still changing," Heron said.

Ivory nodded. "But the changes are uniform. It keeps settling into about three different main configurations, with about four minor variations."

Heron nodded, not really seeing what she meant. "Can you put it all back?"

Ivory nodded. "I think so." She shifted her hands on the casing. There was a click and the parts began to collapse inwards. In moments the casing snapped closed and the watch was whole again. Ivory handed it back to him.

"You can keep it. Maybe you can figure out just what it is and why it is important."

Ivory's eyes widened. "Really? I can?" she asked happily.

It was somewhat amazing, Heron thought. Ivory went from being a expert savant examining a complex artifact to a little girl who had been offered a toy. "Yes. Just keep it hidden. I don't want Anzar hearing you might have it."

Ivory's smile disappeared and she nodded soberly. "I will."

"Good. So we move onto the next question, what are we going to do next?"

Ivory looked around, "I don't know."

"Do you know how to get into the Tower?"

Ivory nodded. "I'm not going to go in though. Not yet."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid," she said. "I don't want to find out what is in there, not yet."

He was a little surprised to hear her say that, and a little disappointed. He did not know if he was disappointed in her, or just that he would not be able to see enter the tower proper.

"And," she continued, unaware of Heron's thoughts, "I don't think I'm ready for it."

"Want to grow up a little first?" he said.

Ivory looked at him, something strange in her eyes. For a moment he thought she might start crying, but instead she nodded and said, "Something like that."

"So you don't want to stay?"

She shook her head.

"We need to be out of the crater, and maybe beyond, before night falls then."

"Okay." She got to her feet and walked down the stairs, the cloak dragging behind her. Heron watched her as she walked along the road, looking at the tombs. She stopped in front of one, stepping close to the door, partially hidden by the ornate overhang. Curious, he followed her.

She stood with her forehead against the door.

"Ivory?" he asked.

"Her name was Miyo," Ivory said. She sounded as if she might cry.

"In the tomb?"

"Yes. She was nine years old. They killed her 'cause her mother was a Solar and she was a golden child."

"Golden child?"

Ivory did not answer for several seconds, then she said, "Half caste children of Solars."

"Half caste," he said speculatively. Heron had not really thought about having children, but he supposed he might one day. Perhaps he already had. Had he already left some of these Golden children in his wake?

Ivory ran her hand over the stone, tapping her fingers against it in some strange pattern. There was a click and the door slid open. "I was 'fraid of that," she said in a soft voice, and then stepped over the threshold into an interior that was brightly lit.

Heron followed, stepping into the mausoleum and then stepping right out. He walked backwards, until he could see the roof, shook his head, and went back in. The roof, appearing solid stone from the outside, was transparent from the inside, letting in the day light. "That's very odd," he said.

"She wanted the Unconquered Sun to see them," Ivory said. She was kneeling by a raised stone altar on which were the remains of a child. Dry, dusty bones covered in ancient robes and a golden breastplate. Her hands were placed at her side, each of them wrapped around the hilt of a short daiklaive.

Heron stepped close and bowed respectfully to the body, then asked, "What?"

"Just something I thought of."

Heron nodded and looked at the body. He had robbed a few tombs, one of them probably his own, and he knew what Ivory had entered for. "I don't think she would mind if you took them."

Ivory nodded, but did nothing.

"Do you want me to do it?"

She shook her head.

This was going to take forever, he thought.

Finally Ivory reached up and began to unlock the latches that held the breastplate closed. She was as careful as someone trying to avoid ripping the wrapping paper on a gift, but the bones were old, the connective tissues long since gone to dust, and the skeleton began to fall apart.

"Oh no."

"It's okay," Heron told her, moving in close. He carefully gathered up the fallen bones and stacked them neatly and the end of the altar. He handed the breastplate to Ivory and then took the swords from the hands and gave those to Ivory as well. Then he put the bones back where they should be.

Ivory stood there, awkwardly holding the orichalcum breastplate and short daiklaives as Heron finished.

"Rich gave goods," he said to Ivory. "Her mother must have truly loved her."

Ivory nodded.

Heron reached into his coat and pulled out several pieces of jade and lay them on the altar. "You are not forgotten child."

"Thank you," Ivory said.

Heron smiled at her. "Let's go."

Ivory nodded and let Heron usher her from the mausoleum.

Once the door was closed Ivory wiped the dust from the orichalcium weapons and armour. They gleamed as if newly made.

Heron hoped that the ghost of that little girl was long since gone, because the jade he had left was in no way equal to the items that Ivory had taken. Well, he thought, they would be on their way soon enough. Doubtful a child's vengeful ghost would follow them long.

He packed up his things and saddled Dragon. Ivory put on the armour, which fit her well. She wrapped the swords in the cloak. Before they left Ivory closed the tower's doors.

"You ride in front of me," he told Ivory, then helped her up on to Dragon's back. Climbing on behind her he set Dragon off at a trot. The tiger went ahead, scouting, Heron guessed. Ivory did not seem to be concerned.

They reached the steeper part of the crater, when the road curved to begin climbing the interior wall. "I wonder what happened here."

Heron had not expected an answer, but Ivory said, "It was a war. They sent armies to kill her."

"I'm surprised this place isn't a shadowland."

"I think," Ivory said slowly, as if she was uncertain, "that she would not let it become one. Not where her children were buried."

Ivory said nothing for a few minutes, then, "She came here, they had tried to kill her. She found her children dead, murdered by her servants. I think she killed them," Ivory said softly.

"I suspect that she did." He wondered just how badly they had died.

"Then the armies came, and she kept killing them, refusing the leave here. There must have been so many dead."

Heron nodded as he recalled all the hungry ghosts he had seen. "There's a ward, like the one around the tower, around the crater. It's keeping them in."

"Yes," Ivory said. "And other dead out."

"The power, the size," Heron said, wondering about the Solars from long ago, the great things they had created. "Think about the places that could benefit from such wards."

"Maybe," Ivory said.

Heron had hoped for a little more enthusiasm from Ivory about the prospect. He was picturing entire shadowlands sealed away.

For a time they said nothing as they rode, then Ivory asked him if he thought any Scavenger Lords had ever come into the crater. Heron suspected they might have, but doubted that they had stayed long; or lived long if they had not left quickly. As Dragon trotted along he began to look about, seeking any evidence for past expeditions. They were starting up the second ring when he directed Dragon off the path, onto a flat piece of ground. Dragon kicked at some of the undergrowth, sending plant material flying, and then a chunk of metal.

Heron slid from the horse's back and picked up the metal. "Maybe a pot." It was crushed and badly rusted, nearly coming apart in his hands. "Been here a while." He tossed it aside and then climbed back onto Dragon. Suddenly he did not feel like searching, not interested in kicking over some human remains.

"You lived on the Blessed Isle?" Heron asked a few minutes later. It seemed a lighter topic of conversation

Ivory nodded. "In Juche prefecture. The most beautiful place on the Isle, in the Imperial River Basin. Only the most powerful families could live there. At least that is what my mother used to say. I think really only the richest could afford to live there."

As important as it was to Creation, Heron had to admit he was woefully ignorant of the Blessed Isle. He took advantage of Ivory's knowledge, asking her various questions about the land and the people. She had mentioned the Imperial Mountain and he asked her how close she had lived to it.

"So close when I looked out a west window I had to crane my neck to see the clouds. And its shadow passed over us every day." She laughed suddenly. "My cousins and I and the fosterlings would always say that we were gonna to climb it when we got older."

"Did you know anyone who climbed it?"

"No," Ivory told him. "A monk once visited who had worked in the monastery on the slope, but he had never climbed to the top."

"I think I would like to stand on the top of the mountain."

He felt Ivory shiver. "I wouldn't," she said.

They did not talk of the mountain after that, but of other aspects of the Isle. In such a way did they pass the time.

It was afternoon when they left the crater, passing through the barrier. Heron let Dragon have his head, and he sped across the grasslands, back the way that he had come the day before.

"Where are we going?" Ivory asked.

"Great Forks," he told her.

* * *

As the horse bore its two riders away something watched them go. Something that would wait until darkness fell before running to the south, to Walker's Realm.


	8. The Broken Hearted Ghost

The Broken Hearted Ghost

The sun had long set when Banti walked into the village. Behind came a coffle of ghosts, each with a manacle of soul steel around a ghostly wrist, pulled long on a chain as fine as a child's hair. He led them towards the center of the town, where the pens were set up.

Villagers, both the dead and the living, stared at him as he passed, and Banti knew that most there despised him. He tried not to care, to console himself with the money he was paid for his work. The drugs he could buy with that money. Sometimes it worked.

The pretty woman who stood by the ghost pen, its guard, was dead. Banti knew that, for the being that ran the pen was a ghost, a powerful one that wore the flesh of the dead, changing often. It called itself Macabre.

"Hello Banti," it said, smiling lasciviously at him, leaning forward so that the body's full, pale breasts threatened to spill out of too tight dress it wore.

Banti cursed the growing tightness in his pants, knowing that Macabre was playing a cruel game, and yet the beautiful flesh it wore was a strong temptation. He focused on business. "I have another group."

"Not a very impressive bunch," Macabre pouted and then put the pointer finger of the body's right hand in its mouth and sucked on it.

"Impressive enough for what they're needed for," he said hotly, both to hide his discomfort and worried that he might be cheated out of his fee.

It smiled around the finger and then pulled it slowly from the mouth. There was something terribly obscene in it. After the finger came out with an audible 'pop' it said, "I suppose you're right Banti."

He nodded.

"Oh, in your travels did you see a child? A child with hair like blood?"

Banti shrugged his shoulder as he pulled the coffle closer. "No."

"Ah. That's too bad."

"Why?" he asked, focusing again on Macabre. There was something that spoke of business in its actions and he, for a moment, forgot the body it wore.

"Our Lord and Master, Walker in Darkness," it said it with reverence, "has made it be known he wishes to know more about a child with hair the colour of blood. There is something important about it, and a reward has been offered."

Banti was silent for a moment, his mind on other things. Macabre had opened then gate to the pen. "Put them inside."

He started forward, then stopped. "I'll have to take one of these ghosts. She's not for here."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Why was it, Banti thought? "One of the Death Knights has asked me to obtain a ghost."

Something in Macabre's manner made Banti think that it might not believe him, but then it shrugged the shoulders of the body it wore. "Very well."

Banti led the ghosts into the pen, and then unclipped the manacles from all but the one he taken from the village of Vinleau. That one he led back out of the pen. Macabre closed the door of the pen. "I'll just write this up," it said, opening a small case of teak and removing several pieces of paper and a soulsteel stamp.

Pen scratched across the paper as Macabre wrote up a receipt for the ghosts delivered. The seal was lifted and then stamped onto the paper. It moaned softly.

Banti took the paper it held out to him and then walked away, dragging the ghost behind him.

"Hope to see you soon Banti," Macabre called out.

He did not reply. He did not trust Macabre and did not think he would have much time.

Once he had put some distance between himself and Macabre he led the woman's ghost behind one of the small buildings. He grasped the ghost and shook her. "Tell me, you spoke of a child. Who was this?"

The ghost stared at him dumbly.

He hit it, yanked hard on the chair, caused it distress, then again demanded of it, "Tell me of the child."

Something seemed to enter the ghosts eyes, and she whispered, "I have to protect her."

"Yes. Tell me of her." Again he shook the chains hard, hauling the ghost around like a terrier with a rat. "Who is she? Tell me!"

The ghost cried out in fear and did not answer.

"Tell me you bitch!" he snarled, looping the chain around her throat, pulling tight.

"What are you doing?"

Banti spun around. A woman strode towards him.

She was clothed in the robes of a Sijan Funerary Priest. Her long, fine hair was silver, her skin covered in shallow wrinkles. She had a noble beauty, moved with a smooth grace that belied her age. Across her back was a scythe of soulsteel, a large, dangerous looking weapon, strange, red runes, like fire, running along the blade.

He knew her. She was one of Walker in Darkness' Death Knights; the Faded Maiden of the Tomb. Her presence could not be an accident. He was certain that Macabre had let her know what was happening. Yet he did his best not to let his anger show and bowed low to the ground. "My mistress Faded Maiden of the Tomb, how glad I am to see you. I have reason to believe this ghost may have information about the child that our great lord seeks."

Faded Maiden stared at him for several seconds, saying nothing. Banti felt as if he might be sick, terrified of what the Death Knight might do to him. When she strode forward he was certain she would strike him, but all she did was to yank the chain from his hand and then unwrap if from the ghost's neck. She then unclipped the manacle from the ghost's wrist and then hurled it at Banti.

It hit him hard enough to make him stumble back and he knew that there would be a large bruise on his pale skin.

Faded Maiden gently took the ghost by the shoulders and asked, "What is your name?"

The ghost said nothing, her eyes darting around in their sockets, refusing to focus on anything.

"They call me the Faded Maiden of the Tomb. What is your name?"

"Maddie," the ghost said in a small voice.

"Maddie," the Faded Maiden said, her voice holding warmth and a kindness that Banti would not have credited had he not heard it.

"Maddie Briar," she said, her gaze meeting that of the Faded Maiden.

"What did you do Maddie Briar?"

"I, I, I," she stuttered, "I ran an Inn. I ran an Inn at Vinleau." Her voice grew steady. "It had been in my family. I ran it."

"Maddie Briar of Vinleau, tell me of the child."

"Ivory!" Maddie shouted.

Banti was amazed as he watched. He would have thought the ghost lost, but the Death Knight was bringing back so much to it. Still, he was certain that given a little more time he could have gotten her to say all that he needed.

Probably.

"Tell me about Ivory Maddie."

"She's a girl who lived at the Inn. She was kind and smart and pretty. Her hair was red. She had golden eyes. They said she was a demon, but I refused to believe it. They…." She began to shake.

"It's okay Maddie," the Faded Maiden said. "This Ivory sounds like a wonderful person. You want to protect her, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Let me take you to my Master," the Faded Maiden took Maddie's hand. "He can help you to protect her."

"Please. Please, if he can help me help Ivory…"

"Yes. Come with me." And she gently led Maddie away.

"Wait!" Banti cried out. "What about me. I found her." He knew he was taking a chance, but he had been a low level, ghost hunter for a long time. He wanted more.

The Faded Maiden turned and looked at him. "I will be certain to tell our lord how you brought Maddie Briar here. I will also be certain tell him how you tried to hide it from Macabre and then nearly destroyed this ghost with your harsh treatment." She turned away from him and led Maddie around the building and out of sight.

Banti leaned against the wall. "He'll destroy me," he said softly.


	9. Suffer the Children

Suffer the Children

Dragon made excellent time. Ivory was amazed at the horse's speed and stamina. She doubted even the famed horses of the Marukan Plains, or the Firemane horses of Eagle Prefecture could match Dragon. However, she wondered if it had more to do with the rider than the horse. She also wondered if Heron had chosen to name his horse Dragon out of some perverse desire to insult the Immaculate Order. She also marvelled at how pretty he, Heron, was.

It was still a few hours until dawn when the horse reached the mouth of the river, not far from Vinleau. "Can we stop here for a while?" Ivory asked.

"What?"

"I want to do something in Vinleau. It won't take long."

"Ivory," he paused, "while I told you that what happened there was not your fault, well, I don't think you would be welcome in the village."

That hurt, but Ivory steeled herself and did not let it show. "I'm not going to let anyone know I'm there. I just need to do something. Please."

Heron shifted uncomfortably, and Ivory knew that he was close to giving in. Heron, she decided, had little experience with children. Any competent caregiver would never give in, at least not without some whining, promises, and winsome smiles, and even then not all that often.

"I'll come with you," he said.

Not quite as pliable as she thought. "Part way," she told him, and smiled winsomely.

"Alright."

They left Dragon behind. Hu probably followed, Ivory was fairly certain he did. She and Heron moved quietly into the village, Ivory had the cloak Darengest had left for her. While far too large for her, it never snagged on anything as it dragged behind her, and stayed clean. She felt a little safer with it wrapped around her.

When they passed by the ruins of the Inn Ivory slowed. She feared seeing Maddie's corpse, still chained in the ruins, but it was not there. In fact, the ruins no longer looked as such. There was obvious rebuilding taking place. That made Ivory feel better.

They moved farther into the village, still quiet in the hours before dawn. There were a few night watchmen about, but they were easily evaded.

"Can you wait here?" Ivory asked softly.

"Why?"

"It's private."

She thought he was about to ask why it was private, but instead he nodded. "Call me if you need help."

Ivory began to remove her armour. "I won't need it," she told Heron when he looked at her inquisitively. She left the breast plate with him and set off, quiet as she could be.

Her target was a house not too far from where Heron waited. She climbed up a trellis work, careful not to damage the wards that had been woven into the wood, and onto the roof that covered the porch. She crept across it, stopping just beside one of the windows. She tapped softly on the glass, then waited a few seconds before tapping again, a little louder.

She heard movement from behind the window and moved to the side. After a few seconds she heard the squeak of wood on wood as the window was opened.

"Alya," Ivory said softly.

She saw Alya lean out of the window. She whispered, "Ivory?"

"Yes," Ivory replied, and she feared that Alya might cry out in fear,

Instead Alya slid through the window and then hugged Ivory tight. "Oh Ivory," she sounded as if she were crying, "Oh Ivory, I was scared for you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Ivory shushed her as she held onto her. "It's okay. I'm sorry."

Alya's knees folded, and she would have fallen if Ivory had not gently lowered her to the roof. She wrapped her cloak around Alya, seeing that she was clothed in a simple night dress.

"It was terrible," Alya said. "They ki, killed Miss Briar and burned the Inn."

"I know," Ivory told her, hugging Alya tight as they sheltered together under the cloak. "It's my fault."

"No, it's that stupid Dragon Blooded. It was his fault. He did it." She started crying again and got out around her sobs, "I hate him and wish he was dead."

"Me too," Ivory said, soft and fierce.

"I'm sorry," Alya said again.

"You don't have to be sorry."

Alya hugged her even tighter. "You don't know, you don't know what they did, made us do."

Ivory felt sick. "What did they do?"

"The man, he said, he said," she stuttered, "he told our parents, that anyone who played with you was to be brought to him, cause our souls were dirty. And he asked if we thought you were a demon, and if we said 'no' he would tell our parents to switch us."

Ivory held onto Alya and whispered, "It's okay." She was not sure who she was trying to reassure. She wished that she had let Heron come with her. Maybe he would know what to say, what to do. He was the grown up.

"It was scary. Some've the first kids, they stuck up for you, but after we knew what was happening, most just said they thought you were bad. And Berg," her voice suddenly grew hard, "as soon as they brung him in he said that you were a demon and you tried to feed him to a river dragon."

Ivory wanted to laugh when she heard that but she was crying when she said, "But there are no River Dragons."

Alya sniffed loudly and nodded. "Little pissy pants," she said, "he asked to go with that Ragara man and be his 'prentice. I beat him up later, pushed his face in the mud and made him cry. I don't let him play with me now."

"Hope you didn't get in any trouble," Ivory told her.

"Didn't care."

"You're so wonderful," Ivory said, and hugged her tight. "You're like my sister, better even." Ivory had three older sisters--all exalted by the dragons--and she had only met them a few times, and none of them had ever had time to play with her. She could not see any of them getting in trouble for her.

She had hoped her words might give Alya some comfort, but she started crying again. "I'm terrible, I'm sorry."

"Why?" Ivory asked her.

"They, they, they were asking us all, and switching anyone who said anything nice about you. Then Jinkar's father brought him in to meet that man. I was close, I he.. he.. heard it, I was close by, waiting, cause I was gonna go in soon."

It was hard for Ivory to make out what Alya was saying, through the sobs and the stuttering. She hugged her and gently stroked her hair. "It's okay," she said, and prayed she was not lying.

Alya continued her tale, her voice steadier, "Jinkar, they asked him about you, told him you were a demon. Jinkar told them that you were not, said that Ragara man was the demon for making everyone burn the Inn and kill Miss Briar and for hurting their kids. The Ragara man told Jinkar's father that Jinkar was bad, and that he needed to be punished so he would be good."

Alya paused, and then said softly, "Jinkar's father's a big, stupid man, and he did what he was told. And whenever they asked Jinkar if you were a demon he called them names, said they were the demons. So his father kept hitting him, like the Ragara man said. I think," she stopped and took a deep breath, "I think they'd've killed him."

Ivory wanted to scream; she wanted to find Anzar and wrap her fingers around his throat and crush the life right out of him. She knew how ridiculous that was, she did not even think her small hands would reach around his neck, but she wanted it anyway.

"They would've, I'm sure, but then Brother Tadfel, and the abbot and the black smith came. And the abbot told the Ragara man he better go, or he'd be dealing with the wrath of Burning Feather, and the black smith pulled the switch out 'f Jinkar's father's hands and knocked him down. And I thought there was gonna to be a fight, cause I was looking in through the open door, and the Ragara man looked mad, and he had the woman and some soldiers with him, but then Brother Tadfel, who was all quiet, told them they had better leave.

"I think the Ragara man got scared, cause he said that he was going, but he said he had spent too much time there and had to go. I really think he was scared, but he couldn't let anyone know."

"But they didn't hurt you," Ivory said, gladder for that than she would have thought.

Alya began to cry even harder, and Ivory felt at a loss, and she began to cry as well because she felt so helpless. She wanted her mother, more than anything else she wanted her mother to tell her that it was alright, to trust in the Dragons. "I'm sorry."

"No," Alya said, mastering her tears. "I'm sorry. I was weak and afraid. They didn't ask me, but if they had, I wouldn't've been brave like Jinkar. I would've told them right off that I thought you were evil. I didn't want to be hurt." She must have mustered all her strength to say that, for once the words were out of her mouth she began to cry again.

Ivory was surprised to hear Alya blaming herself, and she suddenly got angry. She put her hands on either side of Alya's face and put her face close to the other girl's. "You've nothing to be sorry for. I don't care what bad things you say about me, cause I know that you won't mean them in your heart. I don't care that you were afraid and did not want to be hurt. I just care that you are safe, and that you still like me."

For a time Alya said nothing, just cried, slowly gaining control of herself. "I like you. I love you. I wish you were my sister."

Ivory hugged Alya tight. "Then don't be sorry."

Alya calmed down soon enough, having confessed her fears, letting it all out and Ivory was glad she had come. "Can you do something for me?" Ivory asked her.

"What?"

"Tell the other children I don't mind if they said they said they hated me, or were gonna say it. That I'm sorry that any got switched cause of me. And tell them that the Ragara man will be get his for what he did."

"Do you want me to tell Berg too?"

"No," Ivory said, "not Berg."

"Good," Alya said fiercely. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Will you come back?"

"I'll try," Ivory told her. "I'll try real hard."

"Good, cause we promised to do all that stuff when we grew up."

Ivory did not say anything to that. She was not going to grow up, if what Darengest said was true. At the time it had not seemed such a big thing to give up, not for the power she wanted. Now, now she suddenly realised what it meant.

"Do you really have a tiger?" Alya suddenly asked.

"What?" Ivory asked, for her mind was elsewhere.

"A tiger. They said a tiger came and saved you."

"Yes. Hu."

"Can I see it?"

Ivory nodded after a moment. "Hu?"

He came out of a patch of Shadow, walking silently across the roof. Alya gasped and hugged Ivory tight.

"It's okay. He won't hurt you."

Alya loosened her hold on Ivory, turning to get a better look at the large cat. "Amazin'," she said. "He'll protect you, wherever you go?"

"He will."

"Good."

Suddenly feeling as if she had not impressed Alya enough she said, "And I got a beautiful prince who will protect me too."

Alya's eyes were wide. "Truly?"

"Ivory nodded. He's the most beautiful man in the world, and he said he was gonna protect me."

"Where is he?"

"He's waiting, watching so I can talk to you. And he's got a horse that can run faster than the wind."

"Wow."

"So don't worry about me," Ivory said reassuringly.

Alya nodded.

For a time they sheltered under the cloak, sitting shoulder to shoulder, Hu sitting on the roof in front of them. As the sky began to lighten with the false dawn Ivory told Alya, "I have to go now."

"Okay," she said.

They hugged once more before Alya climbed back through her window and closed it behind her. Ivory put her hand on the glass, and Alya matched her. She smiled and then left, leaping down from the roof, Hu right behind her.

Heron was waiting for her, where she had left him. She wondered if he had heard what was said. He handed her the breastplate and then helped her put it on. He did make an excellent, beautiful prince she thought, and felt her cheeks grow warm.

No one saw them leave, as no one had seen them come. By the time the dawn truly came they were on Dragon's back, running for Great Forks.

* * *

Heron entered Great Forks as the sun was setting. He did not bother trying to enter by stealth, or offer bribes for silence. Such things were more likely to attract attention then they were to help him go unnoticed. He had Ivory sitting in front of him, wrapped in the cloak. He had taken care to ensure her distinctive red hair was tucked under the material, and the hood was pulled down low enough that no one would spot her golden eyes.

She had, he thought, been rather quiet since they had left the village. He had watched her meet with a girl, but had not heard what they had spoken of. He thought she was sad, but could not be certain, and had decided not to push it. At least yet.

There was an Inn near in the East quarter, near the barracks. Heron went there, stabled Dragon, and got Ivory into a room, all without attracting too much attention. He did not correct anyone who assumed he was Ivory's mother or older sister.

"Keep a low profile," he told Ivory as he looked around the large suite. It was very well appointed.

"I will," she told him as she took the cloak from herself, letting it fall to the floor.

"Where's your tiger?"

"Over there," Ivory said as she began to loosen the latches on her armour.

Heron turned and saw the tiger sitting in the corner of the room. "How does he do that?"

"I don't know," Ivory told him. "And he won't tell me either, which is unfair."

Heron decided not to pursue it for the moment. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Then we'll decide what to do next."

"Okay," Ivory said.

Satisfied that Ivory would be okay, at least for the immediate future, he left the room and locked the door behind him.

Leaving Dragon at the Inn's stable he waved down a palanquin instead. As he sat in the covered cabin, the runners carrying him across the city, he checked his weapons, making sure they were all in order. The ride was smooth and fast, brining him to the Maiden's Kiss in short order. He paid, tipped, and thanked the bearers before sending them on their way.

He did not enter the pleasure house through the front door, but used the servant's entrance he had exited from only a few days ago. Had it only been a few days?

The door was not locked. He crept through the corridors. He could hear the muted sound of the house's guests through the walls, but the corridor itself was empty. As he approached Silk's door it opened. He was not surprised and he stepped into the office. "I take it I am expected."

Silk sat on the edge of her desk. She smiled and shook her head. "Not until you stepped onto the property. How can I help you Heron?"

"Wanted to ask a few questions. Mind if I sit?"

She nodded at the chair in front of the desk.

He sat and asked, "Did the Terrestrial give you much trouble?"

"He tried, but in the end, what could he do?"

"Visit Vinleau and ask that question."

"What?"

"Not important. What was he looking for?"

"You. But you knew that already."

Heron smiled and nodded. "Guilty. What did he do once he found out I had left?"

"Raged for a bit and once he saw that was not going to get him anywhere he became very polite. Almost charmingly so."

"Almost."

"Quite. He spoke with the people at the card table, bullied poor Liavon quite a bit, not that it got him anything. He was quite upset at the end of it."

"Where's the Terrestrial now?"

"Out looking for you."

"He hasn't found me yet. Any idea where he went?"

"Not really. I think he sent his people out in all directions, asking about you. I think he believes you are a woman."

"Liavon did not tell him?"

She shook her head. "I don't think they asked."

"I suppose it would not be the first question."

"What are you going to tell me about this?" Silk asked.

"Ghost Hand found something that the Terrestrial wanted. He lost it to me in the game. Now the Terrestrial wants me."

"And what do you want?" Silk arched an eyebrow.

"I want to see Ragara Anzar dead."

"If I sent a runner to Vinleau I would probably discover why?"

Heron nodded.

Silk stared at him. "Who are you Heron Jade Eyes, to make such a judgement?"

Heron smiled. "Just an honest gambler."

Silk laughed, snorting through her nose. "There is so much wrong with that statement that I don't know where to start."

"Is Ghost Hand still here?"

"He is."

"I want to talk to him."

"He's out in the lounge."

"I want to meet him in private."

"When?"

"At his earliest convenience."

"Where can I reach you?"

"Do you know the 'Colonel's Bed', it's an Inn by the barracks?"

"Yes."

"I'm there. Using the name Jade."

"I'll send you a message once I have arranged things. I'll be as discrete as possible."

"I'd appreciate it. How are my investments going?"

"Well enough. Do you want me to tell Ghost Hand that you are one of his financiers?"

"No. I want to keep this friendly."

She nodded.

Heron got to his feet. "I'll let you get back to work. I'll show myself out."

"Have a pleasant evening."

* * *

Ivory sat on the floor of the room, the watch opened up in front of her. She wished she had some paper so she could draw out diagrams, start to figure it out. As it was she knew little more than she had when the watch had first opened for her.

She reached carefully into the matrix, not touching anything, but putting her finger behind certain parts for more contrast. "Interesting," she said to herself--Hu was lying nearby, on his back, only one eye partly opened--and then got to her feet. She went to the book shelf and removed one of the largest of the books, flipping to the very last page, finding a blank, white sheet. She propped it up on the floor and picked up the watch.

Holding it up, she was able to move it around in front of the white sheet, better picking out small features. "I really want a piece of black velvet and a jeweller's glass." She sighed and then closed the watch up. After putting the book back on the shelf she walked over and dropped heavily onto Hu.

"Am I a bed now?" he asked, one eye still closed.

"I'm not going to grow up."

"I know." He did not sound sympathetic.

"In fifteen years Alya will be all grown up. She'll be working as an exorcist, have taken a lover," Ivory blushed at the thought, "and maybe she'll even have children. Do you think if I visited Vinleau she would even recognise me?"

"She would probably just assume you are another one of those red headed, golden eyed people that are so common."

Ivory slammed a first into Hu. She might as well have been hitting a wall for the effect it had and how it felt. "Don't make fun of me!"

Hu did not reply other than by closing both his eyes.

"I'm not going to grow up," Ivory said again. "She made me into a doll."

Hu opened one eye a slit. "I'm sorry."

"My fault, isn't it."

Hu did not reply.

"It wasn't until I was speaking to Alya that I thought about everything that I wouldn't be able to do." She rolled over on her back, lying on Hu's stomach. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself."

"Was it worth it?" Hu asked her.

Ivory closed her eyes and thought about all the things that had begun to fill her mind, the ideas that were forming. "I'm pretty sure it was," she whispered.


	10. The Watch's Secrets?

The Watch's Secrets?

Heron took a seat across from Jenka Ghost Hand. It had been arranged for them to meet in a small tea-house not far from the Maiden's Kiss.

"A pleasure to meet you again," Jenka said.

"Thank you. I appreciate you coming."

The Scavenger Lord smiled and waved the thank you away with his gloved hand. "Silk is a good hostess, and I am quite happy to do her this favour. Now, this is about that watch you won."

"Yes." Heron nodded.

"I think I may have made a mistake in putting that on the table, or at least should have asked for more." He smiled.

Heron laughed softly. "I believe that you were given more than fair value for it, even considering the interest it has generated."

Still smiling he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"What can you tell me about it?"

Jenka picked up his tea cup and raised it to his lips to drink. "Have you ever heard," he asked as he placed the cup down, "of a city called Unoia?"

"No."

"I'm not surprised. It has not existed centuries, perhaps longer. It was located about two hundred miles east and slightly north of Lookshy. Burnt and buried, all that is left are the tops of some stone towers," he paused, "and the ghosts."

"I've heard that you make searching such haunted places your specialty."

Smiling in a self-satisfied way Jenka waved airily with his gloved hand. "Overstated tales I am sure. I've just learned a little when it comes to protecting myself against such things, and I hire experts who do much of the work."

Heron reached for the tea pot with one hand and flipped a cup over with the other. His movements sure and quick he poured himself a cup of the red tea. "What about Unoia?"

"Not very much. Unoia was just one of those places that has been left alone for a very long time. We cleared out the towers and were able to use the tunnels that ran beneath the city to explore. Most of the things we found were bought from us by agents from Looksy, if they seemed to have any military applications. They also bought any materials of value. We kept everything else, lot of scrap, and things like the watch."

"Did the purchasers from Lookshy look at it?"

"Yes. Weren't interested in it. It wasn't working at the time."

"When did it start working?"

"I empowered with some of my chi," Jenka said. "Just a thought I had. Once I did that it started to run."

"How long ago was that?"

"Perhaps 2 weeks ago, more or less."

"How did Ragara know you had the watch?"

"I was curious about that myself."

"And?"

Jenka clicked his tongue. "He didn't say."

"I see."

"If you want," Jenka leaned back in his chair, "I could act as a go between you and Anzar Ragara. I'd get you a good price, take only a ten percent commission."

"No thank you."

"So, do you know why the watch is so special?" Jenka leaned forward.

"Well, it makes pretty girls smile."

The Scavenger Lord frowned. "Gods man, so does a bit of jade."

Heron laughed.

* * *

When Heron returned the room he found Ivory waiting for him, smiling as she shifted back and forth on her feet. "I figured it out, I'm almost completely certain."

"The watch?" Heron asked. He had been thinking about it since he had left the tea-house.

"Yes. Yes. It was simple once I realised…" She paused. "Oh, let me show you." She grabbed his hand and pulled him into one the suite's bedrooms. The watch sat on a small table, fully open, around it scattered many of the tools that Ivory had asked him to buy.

"Look," Ivory said, "see this," she pointed to a small area near the watch's casing. It was a flat, rectangle of moonsilver, the face of it shimmering and changing.

"That wasn't there before, was it?"

"No, and that's the most important part really. I realised that this was an artifact, like my swords. It's not just enough to feed some essence into it, not if you are going to understand it. You have to make it like a part of you. That's when that appeared."

Heron nodded. "I understand. Go on."

"It's some kind of writing. I didn't know what language at first, but I knew it was writing. And there are two parts. On the right, that stays almost constant. On the left, that is always changing."

"What does it mean?"

Ivory smiled again and Heron was suddenly reminded of watching a street magician. Ivory wasn't just going to tell him, she wanted him to see how smart she was. Children.

"I wasn't sure at first you see. But then I began to wonder, if that was the important part, what about the rest? What was that for? And I thought that maybe whoever had made it had created a way that other people might use it. So I looked at it for a while and then I thought of this."

She ran to a table on which were stacked a lot of books and picked up one that had been put to the side. "There wasn't enough here to be sure, but then I thought, it would probably be close by, that would make sense, so I began to look through these books. Did you know this place use to cater to military officers?" Ivory asked as she flipped through the book.

"I was aware of that, yes."

"Lucky thing, or I would have had to wait for you to get back to send you out to get the maps." She stopped looking through the pages and held the book open. The pages showed a map of the river province and some distance beyond. Ivory held it open in front of her and stepped up to the watch, on the opposite side of the table as Heron. She looked about and then took three steps back. "Okay, kneel down and look at this map."

Heron was tempted to just tell Ivory to hurry up and explain it, but he recalled what he had said to Jenka. Apparently it also made pretty girls into annoying little things. He smiled and did as told. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Just look," Ivory said, and took a shuffling small step to the right.

"Not seeing anything."

"Keep looking." She moved to the left.

"Ivory this is…" he stopped. He stood up, looked at the map Ivory held. He knelt down and looked at it through the watch. He could see Ivory was smiling. "It's the map."

Ivory nodded. "I knew you would figure it out." She sounded quite pleased.

"The pattern, it's almost the same as the map. And this part," he reached up and pointed to a circle of orichalcium and moonsilver, "what does it mark?"

Ivory dropped the book and almost danced around. "You see it. You understand it. That marks where it is going to happen. I think it is that flying mountain, Metagalpa, or at least one of the ones in that mountain range."

"What is going to happen there?"

"I don't know," Ivory said jubilantly, "but that does not matter. Look, see that plate I indicated. One side is not changing. I thought that must be the part that tells you the location. I worked with that, trying different ways of indicating a place. It uses the Imperial Mountain as its reference point, everything based on distances and direction from the peak. And then," she took a deep breath, "I was able to decipher the code and realised the other part is a countdown timer."

Heron looked between the watch and Ivory, thought about what she had said, and then asked, "Okay, when does this timer reach zero?"

Ivory looked at the watch. "Two weeks, four days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes and thirty," she paused, "five seconds. I think."

"You think?"

"I'm almost positive about the two weeks and four days part."

"So, 18 days? That does not give us much time to," he paused as he thought, "to travel about 1600 miles."

"We're going to go?"

He nodded. "I'd like to find out what this is about."

Ivory nodded. "Me too."

"We'll have to let the Anzar matter go for a while though. Dealing with him would only slow us down."

Ivory said nothing for several seconds, and then said, "Okay."

He reached out and put a hand on her head. "Don't worry. We'll deal with him soon enough. And you did well. Do you know how the watch works?"

"No idea," Ivory said, much less exuberance in her voice. "But I'll figure it out soon enough."

"I'm sure you will. Pack up," he looked around at the mess and shook his head. "I want to leave as soon as I've bought you a horse."

"A horse?" Ivory's eyes lit up.

He nodded and smiled. "A horse."

* * *

It was a small room, in a small Inn, but it would suit. The Inn and the tiny farming village were some distance from Great Forks. Anzar had been searching for signs of the gambler for several days. He had left the easy searching to his servants; he himself was searching the less likely places, moving quickly, and forcing the truth out of those he met.

So far the truth had not got him what he needed.

He dropped heavily down on the bed, the wood creaking under his weight and that of his armour and weapons. A few hours of sleep, and then he would get back to work. He was fairly certain he would find nothing, but he had to be sure.

Mind wandering to other thoughts, he was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of his door opening.

He rolled from the bed, his daiklaive sweeping around, point towards the doorway. His eyes widened when he saw who stood there. The tip of his sword dropped as he bowed. "Lady Blue, I'm sorry, I did not expect you."

Dreaming Blue looked to be a young woman, with short, black hair and light brown eyes. She was not beautiful, but Anzar had always found her strong character and presence to chase away thoughts of physical appearance. She wore a green kimono, with long sleeves, which were, he noted, a little dirty where they would have dragged along the ground.

"There is no need to apologize," she said, her voice pitched high, and she walked into the room. "May I have a seat," she looked at the threadbare seat beside the bed.

"Of course," Anzar said, wishing there was better to offer.

She tripped on the carpet before she reached the chair, long legs and arms flailing, she would have hit the floor had not Anzar caught her. As he held her, her skinny body so light in his arms, he could not help but smile. Her clumsiness was part of what he found so attractive about her.

Once he helped her straighten up he took his hands from her. She sat, looking as if nothing had happened. Anzar took a seat on his bed.

"Did you find the watch," Dreaming asked.

Anzar shook his head. "It was as you said, and I found out a Scavenger Lord named Jenka Ghost Hand had the watch. However, by the time we reached Great Forks, he had lost it in a card game to a gambler named Heron Jade Eyes. I have been searching for her, but so far have not been able to find her."

Dreaming sighed. "Oh dear."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled at him. "I know that you did your best. Tell me everything you know about Heron Jade Eyes, everything you have been able to find out."

"I know little I'm afraid. She is a gambler from the south, Paragon they say. Beautiful, black hair, green eyes. Well thought of apparently," he said the last as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You have no idea where she might have gone?"

"No. I sent my people, and Pera Cathak, along all the roads, asking for her. If they found out anything they were to send me a message as soon as they could."

Dreaming nodded. "It is unfortunate. That watch is very important."

Anzar nodded. "Lady Blue, there is something that troubles me."

She looked at him, canting her head to the side. "What is it?"

"A few days ago, we found a child that looked like the Peleps girl, Peleps Ivory."

She seemed to think about that for a few seconds, then asked, "Mnemon Gazan said that the child was killed by a shape changing demon."

He nodded. "She escaped us, but my servant, Hemhan, he said that he saw the mark of the unclean on her forehead."

Blue sat up straighter. "An Anathema?"

"Yes. I wished to pursue her, but," he shook his head, "this mission you charged me with was too important. When I have completed this mission for you I want to arrange to hunt down and kill it. I would appreciate any help you might be able to give me."

"Of course Anzar," she told him. "But as you say, first the watch must be found." She got to her feet. "I will see what I can find out. I should be able to give you some answers in an hour." She paused. "If you can wait?"

Anzar got to his feet. "Of course my Lady Blue."

"Good." She stepped carefully over the carpet she had tripped earlier on, and then to the door. "Thank you for all your work," she told him before she left.

Anzar returned to his bed, sitting heavily on it.

He was, he knew, in love with Dreaming Blue. It was not necessarily a physical love, though there was certainly that. He had, since the first day he had seen her in the Palace Sublime, found her often in his thoughts. She had, and he smiled at the memory, tripped on a stair and ended up bloodying her nose.

Who she really was something of a mystery. A lay clerk in service to the Mouth of Peace was what almost everyone thought, but Anzar had learned she was much more than that. Sometimes he thought she might be a child of a god, but he had never shared that suspicion with anyone. She was obviously someone important, and had powers that allowed her to move quickly about Creation.

He lay back in his bed, waiting for Dreaming's return.

* * *

Dreaming Blue left the Inn and travelled unseen to a deserted and neglected shrine. The small god there was cranky, but she quieted him with a few angry words, and then took a seat on the dusty altar. She held her hand up to her mouth and spat out a small, emerald coloured spider. "Go, tell me where the woman called Heron Jade Eyes, the gambler, from the South, is."

The spider bobbed in her hand, and then faded away.

She looked over at the sulking god and said, "If you are forgotten it is your own fault. The Immaculate Order holds no sway here."

The god turned away from her, obviously trying to ignore her.

She felt a tickle on her ear as the spider returned and heard it whisper, "I could not find out what you seek."

Carefully she took the spider from her ear and placed it once more in her palm. "No answer at all? Well," she thought about it, "tell me where the gambler called Heron Jade Eyes is."

Once more the spider faded away. When it returned it had an answer. "He is in the city of Great Forks at an Inn called the Colonel's Bed."

"He?" Dreaming looked at the spider in her hand, and then shrugged her shoulders. "Very well," she said and dismissed the spider. She jumped off the altar and tripped on the broken floorboard, falling hard to the floor, raising a cloud of dust. Dreaming looked angrily at the small god, who seemed to have enjoyed watching her fall, and said, "Shut up."

The god turned away to stare at the wall.

Dreaming stood up and brushed off her clothing, snapping the kimono sleeves in an attempt to clean the dirt off them. She really had not dressed right for this job, but Anzar expected it.

Now that she had an answer for Anzar she thought about what else he had told her. Peleps Ivory. She knew about the Peleps girl and her minor ability to predict the future. Not as good as Astrology and the Loom of course, but a useful trick.

Someone should have been watching her.

Dreaming suddenly wondered if she had been responsible for that task. It was, sometimes, possible to lose track of such jobs. There was, after all, so much to do.

She would check her files when she got home.

As she walked from the shrine she wondered about Mnemon Gazan. Why had he told everyone that the child had been killed by a shape shifting demon? It was something to look into as well.

Yet another thing to add to the list.


	11. Events Unfolding

**Events Unfolding**

Maddie Briar screamed.

Necrotic energies whipped against her, ripping through her body, leaving behind the memory of pain. Leaving behind power. She stood up against it, trembling under the assault, but not falling.

She stood upon a pillar in a chamber of bone. The energies emanated from the eye sockets of 4, huge skulls high above. They looked down upon the pillar, somehow suggesting scorn. The room seemed to whisper, a soft sound that said 'step off the pillar, end the pain'.

Maddie stood where she was.

In a shadowy alcove the Faded Maiden of the Tomb watched. "So noble," she whispered.

"A masochist is more likely," Nihilistic Courtesan said.

Courtesan was an emaciated young woman, as if long starved or sick. Fine, long blonde hair hung down to her shoulders, curling slightly. Her blue eyes looked large in her starved face. She was beautiful, in the way that almost dead could be beautiful. She wore a soulsteel breastplate over a black blouse, with a black skirt, puffed out by yards and yards of black petticoats. On her left wrist was a soul steel bracer, on her right hand was a fine glove of soul steel chain and reinforced finger tip covers.

"You don't understand the dead," the Faded Maiden said, shaking her head.

"I don't need to nor care to understand them." Courtesan held her head up high.

"Fool."

Courtesan laughed loudly.

The Faded Maiden stared angrily at her for a moment then returned her gaze to the still screaming Maddie Briar. "She has a strength you will never understand. A purity she has found in death."

"Perhaps you'll be blessed to have that purity," Courtesan said, her tone rich in sarcasm.

"I can only hope." She seemed to have missed the sarcasm in the tone, or chosen to ignore it.

"Why do we waste our time here?" Courtesan held herself stiffly.

"I wish to watch."

"We have more important things to do," Courtesan said.

"Others will do those things, your skill are not needed."

"I have no interest in this."

"Then go."

Courtesan glowered at the Faded Maiden.

"Oh, I forgot." She did not look at Courtesan and her voice rung with false sympathy, "our Lord has told you to remain here until I say you may go."

Courtesan hissed angrily between her teeth.

"He must believe that you will benefit from this." The Faded Maiden smiled as Maddie screamed again, her voice filling the chamber with its pain. "She is so magnificent."

"I don't care. She will be sent off to find that damn child and has nothing to do with us. Her screaming gives me a headache and the entire room makes me ill. I wish to go."

"And I wish you to stay."

"You don't know how much I hate you," Courtesan said.

"Your hate is as impotent as you yourself are."

Courtesan turned her back on the Faded Maiden and starred at the bone walls, trying to block out the sound of the screams and the other Abyssal's smug presence.

* * *

Ivory looked at the horse that Heron had bought her. It was a fine legged, chestnut mare, smaller than Heron's Dragon. It was, she thought, a very beautiful horse, and that bothered her. "She looks too delicate, like she's made of glass," she said.

"She's a race horse," Heron told her. "Very fast." He smiled and patted the horse across its withers.

"But," Ivory frowned as she tried to put her concerns into words, "what good is a race horse?"

"Don't listen to her girl," Heron said to the horse, "she's still a child, so forgive her."

"Don't speak to the horse as if I am not here," Ivory said, her voice raising a little.

Heron laughed. "Don't worry, this is the best horse for this situation. Trust me."

"But…"

"Are you an expert on horses?"

Ivory frowned, as if angry at something, then said, a certain sullenness in her tone, "No, but…"

"I am, and this is the best choice we have. Now help me saddle her up."

Ivory sighed and then nodded. "Okay." If Heron thought it was the best choice, she would have to assume that he was right. And the horse was beautiful.

"What will you name her?" Heron asked as they put the saddle on the horse.

"I'm not sure yet," Ivory said. She had thought of a number of names, but they all seemed silly, juvenile.

"Tighten that strap," Heron told her.

She did as told.

Once the mare was ready Heron showed her how to properly arrange her gear. A pair of saddlebags--stuffed full of clothing, toiletries, and a few other things, all of which Heron had bought for her--went over the horses hindquarters. Her swords, in newly made sheaths of red lacquered wood, were set on either side of the saddle, allowing for easy access and a quick draw if needed.

"There we go," Heron said. "Ready?"

Ivory looked up at the mare, which suddenly seemed very tall, and then nodded. "Yes."

Heron gave her a hand mounting the horse. She had been taught to ride, but that had been on some well mannered ponies. Sitting on the back of a horse, to Ivory, was very different, and a little intimidating.

Heron touched the neck of the mare and said, "Run well." Then he quickly pulled himself up onto Dragon's back and said, "Let's go."

The Mare, with no direction from Ivory, started after Dragon, and Ivory grabbed a tight hold of the saddle horn. She looked around for Hu, but did not see him. That did not surprise her too much; the tiger had told her that he would keep up, not that she would see him.

As soon as they left the city Heron urged Dragon into a run. Ivory released the saddle horn, grabbed her horse's reins, and touched the mare's side with her heels. The mare started forward, flowing into its run, her hooves pounding on the road as she chased after Dragon.

Both horses ran as if they were in a race, the road beneath flying by. Ivory clung tightly to the saddle, terrified by the speed. When she could spare glances ahead of her she saw that Heron looked like he was enjoying the breakneck pace.

Sometimes she thought she spotted Hu, off to the side of the road, matching their pace.

Ivory was not the only one who was not entirely pleased with the speed of the horses. More than once some person on the road cursed loudly as the horses went thundering by, spooking oxen and causing people to leap off the road.

Long after she was certain that the horses would grow tired they were still running and she realised that Heron had done something to them, and remembered how he had touched the mare's neck. It seemed that as long as the mare's stamina was under the effect of whatever charm he had used, the horse was probably going to run flat out. And that meant the race horse was probably the best choice.

They had left Great Forks late in the morning. It was nearing noon when Heron slowed Dragon to a trot. Ivory copied him, but the mare fought her a little, obviously still wanting to run. She passed Heron and rode down the road some distance before she finally slowed her horse and turned it around.

"Good riding," Heron said as she neared him.

"The horse did the work," Ivory told him as she turned the mare again and rode beside Heron.

"Thought of a name yet?"

"Humming Bird," Ivory said.

"Good name." He reached out and touched Humming Bird's neck. "That's enough of a rest. We have a lot of distance to cover." He urged Dragon into a run.

Humming Bird was already galloping when Ivory flicked her reins.

* * *

"When did Heron Jade Eyed leave?" Anzar asked, careful to keep his tone level and polite. The people of Great Forks did not show proper respect to their betters and were too easy to offend.

The stable master looked across the city at the setting sun, scratched his chin, and said, "This morning, couple of hours before noon. She and the girl left in a bit of a rush."

"Girl?"

"Had a girl with her, didn't see her much. Wore a big cloak."

Anzar shook his head, whoever this girl was, she was not important. "How far ahead of me do you think he is?"

"Well," the man smiled, and reached for his pipe, "that's the thing, you see."

Anzar nodded, smiled, and thought, 'hurry up with your story mortal.'

He began to pack the bowl with fine cut marijuana leaf, pushing it in with this thumb. "Heron's horse is a noble beast, southern blood, perhaps the blood of gods in its veins."

Anzar pasted a smile on his face. The man was boring him with minutia and angering him with blasphemy, and all he could do was smile. He truly hated these heathen lands.

"Fine horse," he finished packing his pipe and put the stem in his mouth. "Kind of horse that could run all day, and then do it the next day." He pulled out a sulphur and snapped it against the sole of his boot, causing it to flare up. He lit the pipe, puffing on it until the leaf was burning. "The horse he bought for the girl though, race horse. Got some good blood in it, but not much good for the long distance. Will tire out fast, probably have bruised hooves after a day." He shook his head and blew out a cloud of blue smoke. "Nope, not a good horse for any sort of long trip. Can't tell you 'xactly where they went, but I can tell you they won't be far. That's a fact."

"Thank you," Anzar said, his tone clipped.

"You're welcome," he said around the stem. "Care for a some?" He tapped the bowl of his pipe.

"No. The Dragons Bless you."

"That'd be nice, yeah."

Anzar turned and walked away. The stable master could have been more informative, but at least he had something. And the gambler could not have gotten that far ahead of him. Unless he left the other rider behind…

He shook his head to clear it of such unproductive thoughts.

There was an Inn just outside the city walls, Anzar had chosen it as a base of operations. He did not like being in a city ruled openly by gods. It offended him. If there had been a better place to set up he would have left Great Forks behind.

Luca, an unenlightened monk who had let his hair grow to better blend in, was waiting in the small common room. Anzar took a seat across from him, waving for him to sit down as he started to stand. "Any news?" he demanded.

"Nothing yet."

"They left this morning, a pair of horses."

"A pair of horses?"

"Yes." Anzar leaned forward. "Why?"

"Hemhan said he had heard some people talking about a pair of riders, horses running like mad, on the road that leads to Marita."

"Where is Hemhan now?"

"He's still talking to people, listening to rumours."

Anzar began to tap his fingers on the table. "They may not be that far ahead."

"Sir?"

Anzar waved him off as he thought about it. "Is anyone else back yet?"

"No sir."

"I'll wait until I head everyone's report, but if nothing else comes in, Tomorrow we ride towards Marita."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Temal Blue Sky stood upon a rocky precipice, high up on the slope of the mountain. He held his arms out to his side, his toes on the very edge, and he smiled into the biting wind. Short, thin, he wore loose pants and was bare-chested. He had short, blonde hair and blue eyes, with the pale skin of a northerner.

With a laugh he launched himself into the air, like a high diver. He arced out over the rock, then folded into a headfirst dive, passing the sheer mountain wall.

A flash of colour in the light of the setting sun, a giant hawk matched his dive, spinning gently around him. Laughing, Temal reached out and grasped the hawk's riding harness, swinging himself carefully into position. Even as he did so the hawk began to pull out of its dive. It swept several feet above the rocky ground, then out, over the edge of mount Metagalpa.

Riding easily on the back of his hawk Temal laughed as the hawk flipped almost upside down, going into a steep bank that took it beneath the mountain. Lower and lower they flew, closing on the ground. The hawk swept a hundred feet above the rocky, mountainous terrain as Temal scanned the ground. The sun would fully set soon, and he would have to return to the mountain. For the moment he enjoyed the freedom of flight.

Then he saw something.

He leapt from his hawk's back and plummeted towards the ground. As he fell the wind rose up around him, slowing his fall, and he touched down gently upon the rocky surface.

The smell hit him first, and he nearly gagged. From his belt he pulled a pair of blue jade chakram, tapping them together as he moved forward. The chakram began to glow, providing him with light as the sun set. Above him he heard the scream of his hawk and he waved if off, wanting it to keep to the air.

The zombie shuffled out from behind a boulder, stumbling on feet that were little more than rotten meat and broken bone. It groaned through a mouth of black teeth and moved towards him.

Temal's lip twitched into a grimace of distaste and he snapped out one of the chakram out, generating a shockwave of air that knocked the zombie back, tearing off one of its arms. Temal repeated the attack, battering the zombie with gusts of air, smashing it back against the boulder.

It did not last long.

He leapt over the zombie's broken remains and up onto the boulder. From his high perch, with the light of his chakram, he looked about, seeking out other threats. He saw nothing but the broken rocks and shale of the mountain.

He leapt from the boulder and moved out onto a relatively flat piece of ground. He whistled piercingly and called, "Silk Feathers!"

The hawk dove down and skimmed over the flat ground, towards Temal. Temal began to run, tucking the chakram into his belt, was sprinting as Silk Feathers passed by him. He leapt up, grabbing the harness, mounting the hawk gracefully. Silk Feathers pumped his wings, driving up into the sky.

Temal scanned the darkened ground one last time before Silk Feathers began to rapidly climb. Soon they would be home.

* * *

Had Temal been looking down he would not have seen the figure creeping towards the zombie's remains. Even Silk Feathers, with his superior vision, would not have seen the figure, for it was clothed in tight, dark clothing, and its skin covered in fine, dark feathers.

Reaching the broken body, its eyes wide, vision perfect in the dark, it looked at the broken form. There was no animating force left in the zombie, it was nothing but a rotting corpse.

Turning over the figure raised a fist at the dark bulk of the mountain overhead. "You will be destroyed raiders," it hissed.


	12. Gathering of Clouds

Gathering of Clouds

Horses breathing hard, the sun almost directly overhead, the riders galloped into the large yard in front of the way station. They brought their horses to a rapid halt, pulling hard on the reigns. One horse reared up and screamed, but the rider held his saddle and quickly calmed the beast.

Anzar leapt from his horse, leaving the panting animal for the monks to look after.

People looked at him as he strode towards the way station's hostel, looked at the horses, and spoke quietly of the strange events. He did not care and simply pushed open the door to the hostel and strode in.

It was dark and cool within the building, quiet, motes of dust shining in the few beams of sunlight that pierced the dirty windows. An older man dressed in rough clothing swept the floor. Behind the hostel's bar a man, a little younger than the sweeper, but better dressed, cleaned wooden mugs.

The man cleaning the mugs nodded as Anzar approached. "Afternoon. Little early to get in."

"I've been riding hard," Anzar told him, and placed three jade bits on the bar. "A large pot of tea, good cups. I'll want it taken out to my men."

"Got some good leaf in from the Blessed Isle."

"That would be satisfactory," Anzar said.

"Okay." He stepped out from behind the bar and opened a door close by. "Put the big kettle on the fire, and make sure it's clean. And hot the pots before you make the tea."

"Don't have to tell me how to make tea," a woman yelled from the room beyond.

"And make sure you use that good green tea."

"Fancy!" the woman cackled.

The man closed the door quickly and returned to his post behind the bar. "Should be ready in a few minutes." He picked up the jade bits and placed them beneath the surface of the bar with a soft 'clunk' of jade on wood.

Anzar nodded, then asked, "Did two riders come in last night? One of them might have had a horse that was near lame."

"Had a small merchant train come through, don't remember two riders, lame horse or no."

"One of them would have looked like a beautiful woman, but would have said he's a man if asked."

"I can tell you honestly there were no beautiful women or men here last night."

Anzar frowned, tapped his knuckles on the bar. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Now, there were two riders that went by here yesterday. Went by fast, like an army of the Fair Folk were on their asses. Thought for sure we'd see something chasing them."

"What time did they pass?"

"Well, not quite sure. Morga," he looked towards the sweeper, "them two horses, what time did they run by?"

The sweeper kept cleaning, but he stared up at the ceiling. "Couldn't have been much past noon. I was out feeding the chickens, which I always do after sweeping the floor in here."

"There you go," the man behind the bar said. "Ran by here almost this time yesterday."

"What did the horses look like," Anzar turned to look towards Morga.

"Didn't see them well, or for long. One of them horses was dark grey, stallion by the looks of it. The other was a chestnut, mare I think, long legged runner that."

"Morga takes care of the stable here," the other man said. "Knows his horseflesh."

"Thank you," Anzar said. "Please bring the tea out when it is ready."

"Right sir."

Outside the bar the horses were being walked around and rubbed down, some were being watered. Pera Cathak stood to the side, watching the work. He walked to her side and said, "The riders we follow rode by here yesterday, about this time."

Pera looked at him and shook her head. "Not likely."

"What?"

"I'm not an expert when it comes to horses, but look at ours. We left with the rising sun, rode as hard as we could, and reached this place in half a day and the horses are all exhausted. They left, from what you were told and what Hemhan heard, late morning. How did they pass by this place so soon and then keep riding?"

Anzar nodded. "I see what you mean." He frowned and said, "The stable master in Great Forks thought Heron's horse was god blooded."

Pera shook her head. "Damn gods, banging anything that moves."

"It might explain why he could ride so fast."

"So you still think this is the right way to go? That we are on the correct trail?"

"I have no idea, but this feels right."

She seemed to be satisfied with that.

Shortly afterwards a woman with grey hair came from the hostel, carrying a large tray weighed down with tea pots and cups of porcelain. Hemhan came and took the tray from her and then proceeded to pour out tea and deliver the filled cups.

"My lord and lady," he said a shot time afterwards as he carried two cups to where Anzar and Pera stood.

Taking the offered cup Anzar said, "Rest the horses, we'll be leaving in an hour."

"Yes my lord."

Anzar took a drink from the cup and then nodded. "At least he was not lying about the tea."

* * *

The living and the walking dead loaded the carts, neatly and carefully packing away the long, fine chains of soulsteel. Wicked looking harpoons were each packed, one to a wagon, wrapped in black silk and then covered in a sheet of thick muslin. Each harpoon rode alone in the wagon, but for a single priest who chanted softly over each of the weapons.

Nihilistic Courtesan watched as the work was done. Across her back was a quiver that held both arrows and a long, power bow. She paced back and forth in front of the line of wagons, her full skirts bouncing around her. Often she would stop to impatiently tap her patent leather clad foot. The zombies continued their mindless work, but the living all worked a little faster as she fixed them with an impatient gaze.

The Faded Maiden approached, slowing to put a friendly hand on the shoulder of any zombie she passed. As if the animate meat even understood such an act of kindness, Courtesan thought.

"You know my dear, we can't leave until the sun sets," Faded Maiden said, as if she were speaking to a child.

Courtesan refused to rise to the insult and said, "I want to be ready to go as soon as the sun sets."

"How conscientious of you."

"Shut up," Courtesan said.

"One would almost think you want to be away from our master's land."

"Shut up." Courtesan could not help the anger creeping into her voice. "And we're not even truly in our Master's lands," she said, as something of a dig. They were on the edge of Walker's Realm, for the land was cursed and deadly to any that lived, even Walker's most powerful servants.

Faded Maiden frowned for a moment, and then said, with a hint of bite in her tone, "Perhaps it would be best if you stayed here."

The bow was in Courtesan's hands, an arrow on the string, pointed into the Faded Maiden's face. "I told you to shut up."

The Faded Maiden laughed and turned around. Seeming unconcerned that an arrow was pointed at the back of her head she walked away, laughing still.

"Bitch," Courtesan said, and spun on her heel, putting the arrow through the head of a zombie. The zombie took several shuffling steps before it fell over, lying twitching on the ground. "Clean up that mess," she yelled, "and get these sun blasted carts loaded!"

* * *

As the mistress of the Seven Folded Lotus Peleps Jade Dolphin always felt as if she had too much to do. A graduate of the House of Well-Favoured Aspect, it had been given to her to ensure that the manses in Juche and around the Imperial River were functioning properly and not threatening the essence flows to the Imperial City. A great honour to be entrusted with such work, but it kept her busy.

And yet she made time for other demands, and did her best to ensure that she presented a calm and controlled front to anyone who asked.

Jade Dolphin was a tall woman, pretty enough, good features enhanced by the right make up and the right clothing. She wore her dark blue hair as short as fashion would allow, used subtle gradients of eye liner to make her brown eyes appear large and innocent. Dressed in a beautiful kimono in mourning colours, she walked through the hallways of her home, like a majestic ship.

In her office awaited a visitor from the Palace Sublime, an unremarkable woman in a green kimono.

"Miss Dreaming Blue," Jade Dolphin said, "what do I owe the honour of the Mouth of Peace's attention?"

"Lady Peleps," Blue said, her voice nervous, and she bowed far too low, "I thank you for finding the time to meet with me."

"Not at all." And with the skill of a great hostess she reached down and gently pulled Blue out her bow. "It is my pleasure to take the time to meet with you. Please, have a seat." She directed Blue to an empty chair. She noted that the woman was blushing and hoped that Blue was not falling in love with her. Such a tedious thing.

"Thank you."

Jade Dolphin sat and smiled. "Please, tell me what has brought you here?"

"The Mouth of Peace sends her condolences about the death of your daughter, and she has said a prayer for her."

Jade Dolphin smiled, ignoring the slight twist in her stomach. "That is very kind of her."

Blue nodded. "She is also sorry she could not send someone sooner."

"She is very busy. I am pleased that she took the time."

"There is something else that she asked me to pass on to you, but," she paused and took a deep breath, "I fear it might be somewhat distressing."

Jade Dolphin laughed kindly. "Child, I have stood on the deck of a ship under attack by cannibalistic pirates, sailed through hurricanes, and dealt with upstart gods. There is nothing you can say that will cause me undo distress."

"Of course. I am sorry." She took another deep breath, obviously to steel herself. "Recently a message has come from some pilgrims in the threshold. It tells of a girl with red hair and golden eyes and the mark of an Anathema on her brow."

Jade Dolphin found herself unable to think, her mind seemed to have ground to a halt. Stupidly, she said, "What?"

"I think this might simply be a cruel trick, but the Mouth of Peace wanted you to know before someone with selfish, political intentions tried to use it against you."

"She is most kind." Jade Dolphin felt as if her mind was slowly beginning to work again.

"I have no idea what such a thing means, but it seems so cruel!" Blue stamped her foot.

"Yes. Quite. Please, let me show you out." She got to her feet.

"Of course," Blue said, jumping to her feet and tripping on the small, glass table.

Jade Dolphin reached out and kept her from falling. Keeping a hold on the woman's arm, she directed Blue from her room and to the presence of a nearby maid. "Please take care of Miss Dreaming Blue."

"Yes Ma'am," the maid said.

Jade Dolphin nodded and released her hold on Blue's arm. She turned and walked away, trying to look as if she had a purpose, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

She reviewed everything that Mnemon Gazan had told her, everything he had written in his letters of condolences.

Her mind now felt as if it were moving very fast, speeding along, so fast it was jumping old patterns of thought and sliding into new ones.

She stopped suddenly and drove her first into the wall. The stone cracked. A nearby servant screamed and fled.

Jade Dolphin swore loudly as the stone around her grew damp in her growing anima.

* * *

Dreaming Blue exited the manse of the Seven Folded Lotus, her manner properly respectful, inside she was nearly singing. The watch was of course the most important thing to her, but she would not ignore the possibility that the Peleps girl was a Solar. And she wanted to find out just what kind of game that Gazan was playing.

Using Jade Dolphin to do it served her purposes well.

Her good mood was not even spoiled a moment later when she tripped on a flagging stone.

* * *

The Guild way station was like the many that she and Heron had passed. The only difference was that they had been passing this one as the sun was setting. The night before they had camped out on the road. Ivory had thought spending a night in the hostel might be better, but the place was packed with the members of a trade caravan and several other travellers. She and Heron would have been sleeping on the common room's floor had Heron not talked one of the merchants into giving up his room.

Ivory sat on the floor, against the wall, watching the card game that Heron had joined. In her hands was a light rod; a small, first age device that had glowed feebly the night before. She had taken it apart and was trying to fix it.

It was something to keep her busy.

The hostel was too noisy for her to sleep, at least not yet. The bruises and pain that a day of riding had inflicted on her were gone, faded into nothingness in the few hours since they had arrived. Putting aside the light for a moment she picked up a small loaf of bread from the wooden plate beside her. She ripped it in half and shoved one half into her mouth. As she put the other half back on the plate she heard one of the gamblers curse at Heron.

He tended to win, she noticed, and the people he played with did not like it. That was simple enough for her to understand, but they all seemed to be quite rude about it. The first time she had heard one of them call Heron a 'slut' she had thought he would do something; something grand and violent, and maybe she would have to run to him and calm him. He had not done anything of the sort, instead simply ignoring such slights.

It bothered her.

By the time she had finished reassembling the light the game was over. Heron stood, smiled, and gathered up the money from the table.

The other gamblers grumbled and left the table, some of them looking angrily at Heron, but Heron paid them no heed. Ivory got up, picking up the empty plate and putting it on the table, amongst the other empty glasses and dirty dishes. Heron smiled at her. "Let's go."

She followed him to the windowless room at the back of the hostel. It was small, with a single, narrow bed and an old chair.

"Let me see if I can get the lamp going," Heron said, leaving the door open slightly for the light in the hall.

Ivory pulled the light rod from her pocket and turned the base a few clicks to her left. The rod lit the room up.

Heron turned to look at her. "You fixed it," he said, and then added, with a smile, "Impressive."

Ivory nodded, smiling, and closed the door. "It wasn't too hard, well, you know what I mean. There are a lot of things to fix though." She felt pleased that Heron had complimented her, and she felt her face grow warm.

Heron reached out and took the rod from her, then placed it on a small shelf above the bed. "And you'll have lots of opportunities unless I miss my guess."

Ivory nodded, smiling, but only for a moment. "Can I ask you something?" Ivory sat on the chair.

"You can." He sat down on the bed.

"Why do you let people talk to you like that?"

He smiled at her. "You think I should do something about it?"

"You could."

"Yes."

"Then why not?"

"I was trained to do nothing when being maligned." He said, and Ivory thought he looked embarrassed.

"What?"

"It's a bit of a story. Tell you what," he lowered his voice, "I'll tell you, but I want you to tell me how you came to be chosen by the Unconquered Sun."

Ivory chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

"Very well." He shifted back on the bed until his back was against the wall and the patted the space beside him. Ivory got off the chair and moved to sit at his side. "I was born in Paragon," he said, his voice low so she had to move close to hear, "and when I was eight my father gave to the Perfect as a gift. I was a very pretty boy and I think he had heard that the Perfect liked that."

Ivory felt her face grow warm, but she was not certain if it was at the thought that the Perfect liked pretty boys or that she was sitting so close to Heron. On a bed no less.

"I remember being terrified," he absently scratched the palm of his right hand, "cause you heard stories, all the time. Not anything too bad, no one was really willing to say anything too bad about him, in case he was listening. But it was enough to spark a boy's imagination.

"My various fears were never realised. I spent a few weeks just being made to do various jobs around the palace. I was well liked by the Perfect's Personal Guards, they taught me a little bit about fighting, and I thought that I would become one. They had nice uniforms, and for a young boy they seemed quite impressive." He laughed softly and smiled, a faraway look in his eyes.

Ivory nodded, realising for the past few, rapid heartbeats she had not really been listening. She took a deep breath and made herself calm down. She had been sitting even closer to Heron when they had shared Dragon's back. Stop being silly, she told herself.

"That was not to be my place in the Perfect's household though. I had been there about three months when I was passed over to a pair of teachers. One who taught me how to be a body guard and the other taught me how to act a pleasure boy."

"I don't understand," Ivory told him before he could continue.

"Simply put, the Perfect wanted a bodyguard that no one would suspect was a bodyguard. No one ever looked twice at the simpering little toy that followed him around. If you think that what those people said to me tonight was bad, you've never heard what people will say to the whore of a man they hate. But that was thing of course. Most people don't fear anyone they have no respect for."

"So anyone trying to kill the Perfect," Ivory said, "did not realise that you would protect him?"

"You hear people insulting me, and you think I should get angry. I can understand that. You grew up being told that you were the children of Dragons. Than an insult against you was an insult against the Dragons and must be met with a suitable response, correct?"

"Yes." Ivory said, feeling as if he was criticizing her in some way. She wished she had words to answer that feeling, but she did not.

"Thought so. Me, someone insults me, and I see an idiot who is going to lose their money and perhaps their life. Why should I care?"

"I guess you shouldn't, but…" Ivory bit her lower lip, worrying it gently between her small, white teeth. "I still think you should do something about them." A thought occurred to her and she spoke it. "You are a chosen of the Unconquered Sun."

"If they were to insult the Unconquered Sun or to insult me as his servant, you can be certain that I would do something." His voice grew hard, with a dangerous edge to it. "You believe that, don't you?"

Ivory nodded, a tiny trill of fear mixed with respect in her stomach.

"Good," he said, smiling. "Now, you have a story to tell me."

"Wait. Aren't you going to tell me how you Exalted?"

He shook his head. "Not part of the deal."

Ivory frowned.

"Don't pout. It's not attractive."

"I was not pouting," she said angrily.

"Sure."

Ivory realised she was in fact pouting."Okay." She was quiet for a few seconds then said, "A few months ago," it seemed longer, she thought, "Mnemon Gazan contacted my family, requested a chance to speak with me."

"Why?"

"Political stuff," Ivory told him, lying easily enough. She thought Heron might catch her in that lie but he only nodded and then asked, "Who is this Gazan?"

"The Commander of the Imperial City's Left Guard."

"That would mean there's a Right Guard?"

Ivory nodded.

Heron laughed. "So much to learn."

Ivory felt herself smiling, responding to Heron's laughter. She found another thing she liked about him, that he could take pleasure in not knowing something. "He was very important, my mother said. She sent me to see him. Told me to be polite." Ivory felt sad, recalling when she had left. "I was very excited about it. I had never been to the Imperial City, and when I arrived I was treated very well. I was given a beautiful room in Gazan's mansion; it had a window that overlooked the Plaza of Mela.

"Mnemon Gazan came to see me soon after I arrived, showed me around his mansion, took me to the square and bought me some candy…" She shook her head. "I guess that does not matter. Eventually he got angry at me."

"Why?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Heron nodded, but she supposed that he would want to know eventually. Maybe by then she would be willing to tell him.

"He dragged me back into the mansion, took me into the basement and locked me in a vault."

"Like a precious thing." Heron's voice was soft.

"He told me he would be back for me, and then left. I pounded on the door and screamed for help until my hand and throat hurt."

"Didn't do much good?"

Ivory shook her head. "I tired entering numbers into the numeric combination pad, just guessing, but there were just too many possibilities. Then I looked around, to see if there was anything useful in there." Ivory suddenly shivered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Ivory said. "In 'membering all those machines I realised what many of them were for."

"What?"

"Destroying souls and making slaves."

"Unpleasant." He put a hand on her shoulder for a moment, a comforting gesture.

"Yeah. But there were a lot of other things there. No obvious weapons, but various bits of first age technology. I found a number engine, it was broken, but I fixed it, kind of, enough so that it could generate numbers. Then I plugged it into the vault's combination pad and set it running numbers until it found the combination and the door opened."

Heron smiled and laughed. "You are amazing."

Ivory felt like a cat that had been stroked at the compliment, and she had to stop herself from preening. "When the door opened," she paused, "I felt something, something much greater than me."

"I know the feeling."

She looked up at him and saw a look in his eyes, knew that she had that same look when she thought about the moment she had been Exalted. "It was…"

"Hard to describe."

Ivory laughed softly and nodded. "I knew that everything was different when I stepped out of the vault. It was too vast for me at that moment. I just needed to escape. It took too long, and Gazan came back and found me.

"He tried to catch me, I managed to escape. He saw my caste mark." She remembered vividly the look of hate and fear, but, now that she thought about it, behind that, worse in a way, had been desire. "Outside of the mansion I found Hu waiting for me." Ivory looked about the room, expecting the tiger to appear, as he often did, but the room remained tiger free.

She supposed it was too small for him,

"I would think that finding a tiger waiting for you would be," Heron paused, "distressing?"

"I would've thought so too, but at the time a talking tiger seemed okay. He told me that he was there to help me and asked me to come with him. He led me through the hidden parts of the city and helped me hide away on a ship. I had no idea where I was going until we arrived in Nexus.

"That's the short version."

"And Gazan did not raise the alarm about there being an Anathema in the city?"

Ivory nodded.

Heron looked doubtful.

Ivory said, "Well, maybe he did and I got away anyway."

Heron said nothing for several seconds and then got up. "You can have the bed; I'll make do with the floor."

"I can sleep on the floor," Ivory said, feeling guilty that she had not been completely truthful with him.

"A gentleman does not let a lady sleep on the floor when there is a bed, an adult does not let a child do so. I'm both of the former and you're both of the later. You got the bed."

"Okay." Ivory gave in.

Heron took a seat on the floor and began to look through his gear. Ivory was not tired and she took the watch from her jacket and opened it up, letting it expand out. Most of the tools that Heron had bought her were packed away, but she had the jeweller's glass. She put it to her eye and examined the workings.

"It's changed again," Heron said sometime later.

Ivory took the glass from her eye. "A little."

"Why?"

"I think it is testing me. I was smart enough to figure out the basics, now it is making things harder."

"How are you doing?"

"Not good. Still don't know enough to make sense of it."

"Maybe when we get to the mountain then?"

"Maybe."

* * *

The sun long set, the wagons were lined with a fiery aura. In the empty harnesses ghostly horses began to form. The wheels' soulsteel rims glowed with grave light, and in moments all the wagons rose a hand span above the ground.

Maddie watched, amazed, as the Death Knights and their servants moved quickly, the young woman in the silk and lace was striding around, using an arrow shaft like lash, hitting people, screaming at them to hurry up.

"How do they float?" Maddie asked?

Maddie Briar had changed since she had been brought there, and since she had stood within the bone chamber. She looked almost alive, for her death marks were faint, and she wore black armour, trimmed 

with bone, though she did not wear it well, and it was obvious she was an unfamiliar with the armour as with the sword at her side.

Yet she seemed confident, focused.

"They now ride upon roads long since lost to Creation. Perfect roads that will allow them to travel quickly," Hayden Bloodrose said. She was a ghost, tall and thin, wearing her black armour as if it were part of her. The great sword across her back seemed to not weigh on her at all. Since Maddie had stepped from the bone chamber Hayden had been with her.

Hayden had clothed her in armour of underworld iron. Hayden had told her how do things, amazing things. Cajoling one moment, bullying the next, Hayden had not let up on her, had not given her a chance to rest. She had shouted at her, told her that unless she mastered the basics skill of interacting with the living world she would never be able to protect Ivory.

That, beyond anything, had made Maddie find resources deep within herself, things she had never known to exist, things that might not have existed when she had stepped into the bone chamber. Hayden had made it clear that Maddie had much more to learn, but was satisfied for the moment.

"Will we be going with them?" Maddie asked.

"No, they will not be looking for the girl."

Maddie nodded and wondered what they would be doing. She did not ask, however.

Hayden reached into her black cloak and withdrew a fist-sized ball of moaning, black metal. She held it up on a chain and reached out, placing her hand over Maddie's face. "Don't move," she said.

Maddie did as she was told.

"Think about the girl; focus on her," Hayden said, "on your need to protect her."

The words echoed in her mind, and Maddie remembered the first time she had seen Ivory, a girl who looked as if she had missed a few meals, with dirty hair and hands, wearing worn clothing. She recalled the look of indignation on that small face when she had suggested the jade might have been stolen.

"Yes," Maddie heard Hayden said. "Very good. She's far away, we can get closer. Yes. Excellent."

Hayden took her hand from Maddie's face and Maddie watched her return the strange device to a pocket within her cape. "We'll leave immediately."

"Where are we going?" Maddie asked.

"We will travel through the Underworld. It will be dangerous, but there are means for us to move quickly." She frowned. "There are no Shadowlands close to where she currently is, and even the closest are small things. Still…"

"How soon until we find Ivory?"

"It depends on where she goes next. Fear not. We will find her." Hayden turned and strode away.

Maddie watched the wagons as they began to move away, speeding just above the ground, their wheels moaning as they spun. She turned and followed after Hayden.

* * *

The horses were exhausted having nearly been ridden to death. It had been impossible to ride them any further and for the past hour they had been led along the darkened road to the way station. Anzar let go of his horse's reins and handed them to Hemhan. "I'm going ahead," he told him, and then ran off, cutting across the rough ground, splashing through a stream, making straight towards the brightly lit buildings.

The hostel was full of people when Anzar entered; people who were eating, drinking, talking, and enjoying themselves. Anzar pushed through the crowd, not concerned with the people he inconvenienced or knocked down. Ignoring angry exclamations he pushed up to the front of the bar. "You there," he 

demanded of the middle aged, grey haired woman working the bar, "I'm looking for a pair of riders. One's a beautiful man, looks like a woman; the other is apparently a child. One of their horses was likely lame. They would have arrived last night or perhaps sometime today."

The woman shook her head. "No one like that has come here, not that I recall."

"Would you even know?" he asked, his tone cutting. He knew that was not the best tack to take, but he did not care.

She frowned. "Anyone comes here, I usually hear about it. A beautiful man who looked like a woman and a child would have been spoken about."

Anzar frowned. "Did a pair like that ride by here then, running fast?"

She looked less certain. "I'm not sure."

He slapped a jade obol on the bar. "Who would be sure?"

"Logos," she said.

"Get him."

The woman nodded, picked up the jade coin and then went off to get whoever this Logos was.

A few minutes later Anzar was putting the questions to Logos, a bald, old man with a bad limp.

"I saw a pair of riders speed by yesterday. Looked like a woman and a child. Didn't slow down at all, thought they must be racing or something."

"What time did they ride by?"

"Couple of hours before sunset maybe."

Anzar stepped back from Logos. What sort of damn horses was he chasing?

"I think I saw the riders you are looking for, this morning."

Anzar looked to the speaker. He was a young man, with dark eyes and dark skin, tattoos across the right side of his face. He had a lanky look to him, wore a short sword as his side.

"You're a caravan guard," Anzar said to him.

He nodded. "I am. Think I saw them, the ones you are looking for."

Anzar waited a few seconds and then said, "Well?"

"Got an obol for me?"

Anzar grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him close. He pulled and obol from his pocket and jammed it against the man's forehead, pressing hard. "Talk," he snarled.

"This morning," he said, panic in his voice, "we were just leaving the way station…"

"Which one?"

"Next one, day's travel towards Marita. We were just leaving, early morning, pair of riders come in. Beautiful woman, little girl with red hair. They wanted tea. Heard the little girl whining that she wanted milk tea with sugar."

Anzar did not say anything for several seconds and then demanded, "What?"

"Milk tea with sugar." The man yelled, for Anzar was pressing the coin hard into his skull.

Anzar stopped pressing on the coin--it remained stuck on the man's forehead--and said, "No, the girl. What did you say about the girl's hair?"

"Red hair. Long red hair."

"And her eyes. What about her eyes?"

"I didn't see them."

"What happened next? Did they stay?"

The young guard shook his head. "They had ridden out again before we had finished getting the caravan ready."

Anzar released his hold on the man's shirt, pushed him away. "I have men and horses coming in," he told the woman with the grey hair. "He slammed several jade obols on the bar. Get them food and fodder, blankets if you don't have space in here, and build them up a big fire."

"Yes sir," the woman said, her eyes wide as she stared at the money on the bar.

Anzar almost ran from the bar. People got out of his way. He could see the horses and his people approaching. He waited, calming himself, and when they got close he called out, "You'll stay here tonight. Rest the horses. See about buying new ones so you can ride relay."

"Yes my lord," Hemhan said, and then, "You will be going ahead?"

Anzar nodded. "Pera, come with me."

Pera nodded, hand her reins to one of the men, the followed after Anzar.

"They've covered more distance than us in less time," he told her, "and the Peleps girl, or the thing that looks like the Peleps girl is with the gambler."

"What?"

"Girl with long red hair."

"Might not be her."

"It might not, but I think it is."

"Alright. What do you want to do?"

"Get us to Marita, ahead of them."

She nodded. "I am going to move away from the way station and cast the spell."

"Good. I'll be with you soon. I need to make sure the men are ready to follow after us."

"I understand," Pera said, then turned and walked away.

Anzar headed back to where the horses were being tended. The fire he had asked for was already burning bright. As he looked at the exhausted horses and his tired men he told himself this was another thing that the Anathema and the gambler owed him for.


	13. The Breaking of the Storm

Peleps Jade Dolphin was not a stupid woman, but she needed to find out what had happened with her daughter. Even if she had not cared about Ivory, which she had, she could not ignore what might be a threat to her family. So she had come to the Imperial City to speak with Gazan Mnemon. However, she had not let him know she was coming, desiring the meeting to be on her terms if it was going to be on his turf.

She found him just outside of Temple District, with two members of the Left--a man and woman who, while likely Exalted, had a disreputable air about them. She stood on the small foot path, so he would have to acknowledge her. He stopped several paces away from her, appearing surprised. He spoke softly to his companions and a moment later the two left.

"Peleps-san," he said warmly as he approached her. "Again, let me offer my condolences for your great lost."

"Thank you Mnemon-san. And thank you for the gifts you sent my family. They were well chosen to be valuable and yet at no time did they suggest you were paying for my daughter's life. Well done."

His demeanour changed, he became more guarded, but she thought she could use that. "I have heard an interesting story from the Threshold," she told him.

He said nothing, only watched her, so she continued. "I have heard tell of an Anathema with red hair and golden eyes."

That took him by surprise, she was sure of it, and there was, for a moment, a hint of panic in his eyes. Then it was gone, almost as if it never were, and he spoke smoothly, "Surely someone with a cruel sense of humour is behind such tales."

"Perhaps." Jade Dolphin nodded.

"Might I ask where this story has come from?"

"Oh, somewhere," Jade Dolphin said airily. "I don't see it as being important."

"I disagree with you. Any rumour of Anathema is important, and if this were the demon that killed a guest in my house, I would see it properly dealt with."

"Of course," she said. "How foolish of me not to see it."

He frowned. "What game are you playing at?"

"Game?"

"You had best be careful Peleps Jade Dolphin."

"I have no idea what you are speaking about. If you'll excuse me," she started to turn away.

Gazan grabbed her by her upper arm, forcing her to turn back towards him. "Tell me where this Anathema was seen."

The force of his demand battered at her, like a physical blow, but she simply smiled, and then looked at the hand on her arm until he released her. "If you'll excuse me, Mnemon-san."

"Of course Peleps-san."

She walked away from him, not looking back. She was not certain of much at the moment, but she was certain that Gazan was lying when it came to Ivory's fate.

That her daughter was possibly still alive did not bring her any joy, however. She knew what she had to do next. Some research into Dreaming Blue and her position in the Mouth of Peace's staff presented her with a very good idea of what agent might have seen the girl with golden eyes and red hair.

It would not take her long to find out where that agent was.

Anzar hit the man a solid blow across the shoulders that knocked him to the ground. He kicked the sword out of the man's hand and then stepped on his throat, pinning him to the ground. It made him, he had to admit, feel good to be engaging combat.

Even with such uninspiring opponents.

He took his foot from the man's throat. "What are you going to do if you need to fight hand to hand?" he demanded.

The man rubbed as his throat as he sat up. "Hope my bow keeps them from getting close?"

"You do that," Anzar said, then turned to look at the other mercenaries. He supposed that it was not right to call them mercenaries, at least not all of them.

Even in Marita the realm had agents, those who sought favour or money. Anzar was spending freely, with monetary resources and favour. A number of the combatants were hoping their service might earn them citizenship. A few fervently believed that a death fighting Anathema would result in them being reborn as Dragon Bloods. And the rest were there for some sort of compensation; cash or later favours.

They were not the wyld hunt he would have preferred, but it was the one he had. And he would make do with it.

He looked along the line of hopefuls and pointed to a tall, broad shouldered woman. "You."

She smiled, lifted her great axe, and came at him.

It was not a long fight, he had not expected it to be, but he was moderately pleased with her abilities. "You'll do well," he told her, and she smiled broadly at the compliment.

There were more to test, to make certain of their abilities. He might not have much choice, but he was not going to take someone completely unsuited to the task.

That morning he and Pera had arrived outside of Marita, borne there in a single night by means of her spell--Stormwind Rider. He was certain that they had moved ahead of the Anathema.

Anzar had entered the city, being as discrete as possible, and he had sought out the agents that Lady Blue had told him of. Anzar knew that by talking to the agents he was risking years of work that the Realm had undertaken to place them there. However, he was certain that Lady Blue would not have given him their names and the code phrases to identify himself if the mission were not vitally important.

Now he had a force of thirty five men and women, each reasonably skilled in the arts of combat.

When he was finally finished by the end of the day he had them split into three groups: Twelve Heavy combatants that Pera would command; He would lead a group of fifteen skirmishers, as he was thinking of them; the remaining eight were archers that he would use in a support role. It was quick and dirty, but it was good enough.

"Get some rest," he told them. "Tomorrow we head down that road and find our enemy."

A few cheered, but most were already getting ready to get some sleep.

His opinion of them rose somewhat.

He walked over to Pera, made sure there was no one nearby, and asked, "What do you think?"

"They are adequate considering the situation."

He nodded, wishing she had a better opinion. Anzar, for all the missions he had performed for the Mouth of Peace--through her messenger, Dreaming Blue--had never been able to take part in a Wyld Hunt. Pera had taken part in three, and he respected her opinion in such things.

"The Anathema is a child," she continued a few seconds later, "and that should make it easier. If, of course, that is her true shape. My concern is the gambler. What if he is more than he seems? He could be a demon, or a rogue god, or, Dragons help us, another Anathema."

Anzar had not wanted to think of such a thing, but now that Pera had brought it up he did think on it. "We won't have chance."

"Not with this group, no."

"Adequate considering the situation, as we hope it will be."

"Yes."

"Very well," Anzar said. "We'll deal with whatever happens."

"If we ride quickly, using relays, and if they maintain the pace they were, we should reach them a little before sunset tomorrow."

"We'll be coming at them with the sun in our eyes."

She nodded. "But she will be easier to track in the darkness, once she starts using her powers. And the stolen power of the sun is weaker once the sun sets."

"I did not know that."

"The leader of the hunt that took down the Anathema of Harbour Head three years ago taught me that," she told him. "We hunted the other two moon Anathema in the day, once the moon was out of the sky."

"Very well, we'll do our best to attack as the sun sets."

* * *

The horses sped along the road, Heron setting a fast pace. Ivory kept up, pushing her new found skills to their limits. And yet she knew that Heron could have ridden much faster if she was not holding him back. She had suggested that they leave Humming Bird behind and that she ride on Dragon, but he had refused. It was, according to him, better to have two horses.

He had been trying to teach her the charms that would allow her to get so much more from her horse, but so far she had been unable to master them.

"We won't reach Marita this night," Heron called out over the sound of the horses' hoof beets.

Ivory looked up at the gathering clouds. "We should have stopped at the last way station," she called back.

"Probably," Heron said, laughing. "Start looking for a shelter then." He slowed Dragon and Ivory followed suit, reigning in Humming Bird.

She stood in the stirrups, stretching after the hard day of riding, and trying to get a better look at the area around them. "I think it is going to rain," Ivory said. Dark clouds were rushing in from the north. "I hope we find some place dry."

"Your tiger is back," Heron said.

Hu was walking along the side of the road, far enough that he did not spook Ivory's horse. Humming Bird was starting to get used to the big cat, but only if he kept his distance. "We're going to camp soon, hopefully some place dry."

"There is a place not far ahead that will suit, I think," Hu told her.

"Hu says there is a place up ahead where we can camp," Ivory told Heron.

"Damn useful having a tiger around," Heron said, smiling.

"Not usually," Ivory said.

Heron laughed. "That reminds me," he said a moment later, "what's he eating?"

"Whatever he wants to," Ivory told him. She smiled.

Again Heron laughed. "You should go on stage."

"I'll do magic tricks and tell jokes. The Amazing Ivory and her Tiger."

"I'd pay to see that."

Spending an evening camped out, as long as they could keep relatively dry, might not be so bad, Ivory decided. Sitting around a fire, telling stories, making each other laugh. It would be like camping out.

She had read stories about people camping out; it had always seemed like fun. Living rough, as she had in those weeks with Hu, was not the same as sitting around a fire, telling stories, cooking food on sticks. "I wish we had brought something to roast over a fire," she said softly.

They were getting close to where Hu said they would find a good camping spot when the first rain drop, fat and cold, splashed on Ivory's bare neck. She shivered and pulled the demon's cloak up over her head. The twilight grew darker as the clouds blew in, enough light left that the flashes of lightning were bright, but not blinding.

It was going to be quite the storm.

Hu suddenly charged towards her. Humming Bird shied, rearing up, forcing Ivory to hold on tight, letting the horse have its head for a moment. She planned yell at Hu for his strange behaviour, but then the arrows fell, from the dark, cloud cloaked sky, punching into the ground where she would have been, had Hu not spooked Humming Bird. She did not think that she owed Hu an apology for her earlier, ungenerous thoughts, but simply lay her heels against Humming Bird's side, sending the horse charging forward.

Hu was close by, leaping and bounding across the ground. Heron rode close, shouting over the sound of the hoof falls and the rain, "The archers are over a raise to the east, ride fast, we'll be out of their range soon."

Ivory leaned over Humming Bird's neck, letting the horse run. She did not answer, but did not expect that Heron thought she would.

They were rounding a corner and another wave of arrows fell towards them. She watched in amazement as Heron drew one of his flamewands and fired at the approaching projectiles. The cloud of flame burnt away the wooden shafts as the super heated air set up strange convections in the air, causing the remaining arrows to miss by a wide margin.

Spinning the weapon around, he slid it back into the sheath and then yelled, "Run."

Ivory realised she had slowed Humming Bird's run slightly, to watch Heron's actions. Again she urged the horse to a faster run, following after Heron and Dragon.

She knew when the sun had set fully, though the clouds had blocked out the light already, and the lighting flashes lit the area around them in stark, white light. It was in that light that Ivory saw the riders, charging down the road towards them.

Hu growled loudly.

Ivory turned towards the tiger. In the last fading light of the lightning strike she saw another group of people running towards her; clad in heavy armour and carrying heavy weapons. And at their lead was a figure in red jade armour, carrying a huge, red jade weapon.

She turned Humming Bird about and charged them, not really thinking clearly.

As she got closer she grabbed the swords from their sheaths and rolled from the back of Humming Bird. Falling, she remembered:

_At the Seven Folded Lotus there had been an old man. Ivory had only known him as the Manor Sword Master. It was said he was one of the most skilled mortal swordsmen on the Blessed Isle. Ivory knew he was related to her, but she really did not know how. The blood ties of unexalted family members had never been considered too important._

_To him it had been given the task of training the children in the basics of swordsmanship. A situation that could be considered an insult or a great compliment, depending on how one looked at it._

_When Ivory had been four she had been sent to see the Sword Master. Her nanny had bathed and dressed her and then sent her off, telling her to behave and pay attention to her teachers._

_The Sword Master had been a tall man, thin, with long gray hair. He was one of the few elderly people that Ivory had ever seen at the manse._

_He had looked her up and down, gave her a small practice sword made out of bound reeds and had pointed out a small training dummy. 'Fight that as if it were a monster,' he had told her, and then left her to it._

_It had seemed such a fun game, pretending she was fighting a monster, hacking and slashing at it with the light, flexible practice sword. After an hour he had sent her off to her next set of lessons, telling her to come back the next day at the same time._

_She was all sweaty from all the hard work, but she had had fun, and had not minded when her calligraphy teacher had admonished her for looking so untidy._

_Almost every day she had gone to practice, creating an imaginary fight with the training dummy that was as grand and amazing as any of the story she had ever been read or been told. And when she got confused of how to best carry on the fight she would ask the Sword Master, 'if the dummy does this, what should I do?', 'What do I do if their weapon is longer than mine?' and similar questions. He always told her, but that was about it._

_By the time she was six she had named her enemy the Red Anathema, and she was the last member of a Wyld Hunt that had been sent to destroy him. Sometimes she was also saving the Empress from him._

_She had also started fighting with the other children who were also there to learn. It was nothing formal or organized, just a bunch of children sometimes testing themselves against one another._

_Then the Sword Master had taken the sword of reeds from her and gave her a sword made from hardwood and started teaching her in a more formal manner. He had told her, 'You know how to move, like a wild thing knows how to stand and walk. If it comes down to the choice between moving and thinking, always move.'_

Ivory's feet hit the ground, her sandals squelching on the muddy ground. Her feet slipped slightly as she charged forward, a voice in the back of her head saying, 'move, don't think.' It was not the voice of the Sword Master from long ago.

* * *

Heron charged the incoming riders. He saw Ivory turning off, charging another group of attackers. He could only hope that she was able to take care of herself. He did not have the time to be concerned for her.

In his hands appeared his plasma tongue repeaters, an aura of golden light already around each pistol. There was still some distance between him and the incoming horsemen. They probably thought they were safe at that range.

Balls of plasma exploded amongst the men and the horses. As well trained as the horses might have been, the fire in their midst was too much for most of them, and they panicked, throwing riders, bolting off.

Several riders remained on their horses, in control, and they were charging still.

Heron's hands glowing, he reloaded the weapons and snapped the cylinders closed, firing rapidly again in a single, smooth motion.

All but one of the riders were felled by his fire. The one rider had swung out a black jade daiklaive, cutting through the flames. As Heron charged towards Anzar, for he recognised the rider, he put his empty repeaters aside, the weapons winking out of existence, and reached into his outer robe.

As the two horses passed nose to nose Heron brought forth what looked like the golden hilt of a sword. As his caste mark flared a blade of pure essence erupted from the hilt, like a flaming brand. As blades of essence and jade crashed into one another the black jade of the daiklaive lit up brightly, casting a strange light around the two combatants, making it appear as if for a moment they were underwater.

Then a cascade of lighting tore across the sky, the harsh white light dispelling the effect.

As they passed, their swords parting, Heron brought Dragon around so fast he could feel his mount's hooves tearing through the ground as his legs almost slid out from under him. He lashed out towards Anzar's back, for the Terrestrial had not managed to bring his horse around so quickly, but Anzar thrust his sword behind him, catching Heron's swing. The two blades met in a shower of essence sparks, the strange blue light again surrounding them for a moment.

Then Anzar had his horse turned and cut towards Heron with a brutal, over hand swing. Heron caught the blade on his, and they sat mounted, corps-a-corps, Heron's sword binding Anzar's.

"You will die this night Anathema, I swear by the Dragons," Anzar said, his voice level but his eyes wide with the anger he obviously felt.

"I will not be hunted like an animal Terrestrial. Remember that because it may keep you alive. The only reason that I'm going to spare you is for Ivory," Heron replied, snarling.

"She dies next." He drove back against Heron's blade, forcing the Solar back in his saddle.

Dragon twisted his neck and with his teeth ripped a chunk of flesh from the hind quarters of Anzar's horse. The horse screamed and bucked. As Anzar tried to find his balance on an unsteady mount Heron had Dragon push closer, using the horse's strength to drive the Terrestrial almost from this saddle.

Dragon shifted away, leapt up, kicking himself into a spin, his rear hooves coming around to crash into the other horse's chest. There was the sound of breaking bones and the horse screamed.

Heron cut out in a wide circle opposite to Dragon's spin, his sword flashing through Anzar's guard, the tip opening a wound on the Terrestrials arm, cut to the bone, from his right wrist to his right elbow.

As Anzar went down under his horse, the blue jade daiklaive spinning away to land some distance off, Heron spun Dragon around and charged back towards Ivory.

* * *

It was not that Ivory was better than those she fought, but she was better than they expected. And the golden blades she carried were razor sharp and light as feathers in her hands. And most importantly she fought with the power of the Unconquered Sun, her caste mark flaring into life as she cut her way through the people that tried to stop her.

She turned rapidly, swords flashing about her, forming a defensive weave that turned aside the blades that sought her out.

Then a tall woman with a huge axe stepped forward, hacking at Ivory. Ivory managed to stop the attack, but her swords rang and she felt it in her arms right up to her elbows. Before the woman could follow up with another attack Hu hit the axe wielder, bearing her down to the ground, his teeth set into her throat.

And for a moment Ivory was in the clear. She drove her blades point first into the ground then brought her empty hands together in a clapping motion. As the other attackers, having overcome their surprise at the tiger's appearance and attack, came towards her, she drew her hands apart, between them the golden threads of sorcery. As quick finger movements shaped it into a three dimensional rune, her mind set down pathways, familiar and new, which added to the rune between her hands. The first attacker, a broad shouldered southerner with a huge, two handed sword, was almost on top of her when Ivory released the spell.

From the space between her hands came a rapidly expanding cloud of obsidian butterflies, their wings edged in gold that shone like fire in the light of her anima. Thousands of razor sharp butterflies scythed through her enemies, cutting almost all of them down.

The woman in red jade remained standing, however. Her grand daiklaive had shattered the butterflies before they had cut her, through there were a myriad of shallow cuts covering her exposed skin. Those wounds did not slow her, and she came charging at Ivory.

Ivory pulled her short blades free and parried the first attack. If she had thought the tall woman with the axe had struck with great force that was nothing compared to the strength in the Terrestrial's arms. She was driven down to her knees, losing her grip on the blade in her right hand.

She could not stop the next blade; only turn it so it crashed down on her shoulder. The strange weave of the demon's cape and the armour of the breast place turned the blow, but it still felt as if her right shoulder had been driven from the socket.

Hu, having finished off the woman with the axe, leapt forward, hitting the Terrestrial, his weight driving to her knees. As she forced herself to her feet flames came into existence around her and Hu leapt away from her, leaving the smell of burnt fur in the air.

Ivory surged up from her knees, driving her sword into the woman's abdomen. The tip of the blade slipped on the jade armour before finding a joint to slide through. The woman grunted and when Ivory drew the blade back there was blood on it.

However the wound did not seem to be enough to stop the woman in red jade, and she lifted her grand daiklaive into the air again.

Ivory snatched up her fallen sword and dodged to the side, avoiding a blow that caused the muddy ground to explode up like a geyser. The Cathak woman yanked the blade from the ground, hurling a mud into the air which rained down on them as she slashed her blade, high to low, a blow that would have cut Ivory in half had it connected.

She half leapt, half stumbled back, feet slipping in the mud, raising one of her swords just in time to parry the back swing.

Desperation drove her forward, holding her swords nearly parallel to each other, stabbing them both in the opening in the woman's armour. Her anima grew brighter still, the bright bonfire of sunlight seeming to battle with the real fire of the Dragon Blood's anima.

Both blades pierced the woman, one blade driving the other in deeper like a wedge.

It was a deep wound, but hardly a fatal one, and the Cathak woman was preparing to cut down at Ivory when Hu, braving the flames, leapt at the woman's back, hitting her hard, rending and biting, then leaping away.

The tremendous weight of the tiger drove the woman forward. The hilts of Ivory's swords slid from her hands--the blades cutting her fingers--and slammed hard into her chest and the breastplate she wore. The tips drove deep into the woman.

Suddenly there was a spray of blood, enough so that Ivory felt it over the heavy rain drops.

Ivory grabbed for her weapons' hilts, hissing at the pain of lacerated fingers, and pulled her blades free as she stepped back, avoiding the falling woman.

Was she dead? Ivory moved closer to her when she heard Heron calling. He was galloping towards her, leading Humming Bird. "Get on, let's go!"

She turned and fled back towards Heron. He helped her up onto Humming Bird's back, taking her swords from her for a moment.

They wheeled their mounts around and galloped off, their animas illuminating the road in front of them. Heron fired into the air, dealing with another flight of arrows, and then the two of them were far out of range, glowing with sunlight, visible for miles, but safe from attack.

Ivory kept look back for a long time, wondering if the woman was dead.

She suspected that she was.

Ivory did not know if that should make her feel good.


	14. Sorrow and Uncertainty

**Sorrow and Uncertainty, The Dead and the Living**

The sun had set, a light rain fell, the edge of truly great storm some distance off. Old stones had once been a temple dedicated to some minor, small god. There had been human sacrifices there once, not many, but enough to weaken the walls between worlds.

From that small tear trooped a group of ghosts, dressed in dark armour. They had a wary look to them, their armour dented and rent in places.

Maddie, who had not been dead long, had been forced to deal with a great deal in a short time. A speedy crossing of the underworld had only been part of it.

She stood some distance from the other ghosts, staring out into the darkness and rain. Somewhere out there was Ivory, a little girl who helped Maddie resist the call of Rebirth or annihilation. A tie that held her to creation. The other ghosts called it a Fetter. Maddie did not really care what it was called, as long as it helped her find Ivory.

That was why Hayden was approaching her. The woman had a way that allowed her to find Ivory through that connection.

Maddie turned her face up towards Hayden. Hayden, holding the orb of soul steel in one hand, placed her other hand on Maddie's face. Maddie thought of Ivory, of her sitting at the table in the kitchen, looking over the ledgers, of her running out the Inn's door to go play. She thought of her Inn until Hayden told her to focus her thoughts on the girl.

With Ivory strong in her mind she heard Hayden muttering softly. Then her hand was taken from Maddie's face. "She is moving fast," Hayden said. "East, towards Marita. Okay," she said, stepping away from Maddie, "we move out, no time to rest."

There were some grumbles of annoyance from the other ghosts, but all of them got ready to move.

"You've done well so far," Hayden told Maddie.

"Thank you," Maddie said, feeling a flush of pride.

"You still have much to learn, if you are to reach your potential." Her tone was straight forward.

Maddie nodded. "I will," she said. She had to, if she were to protect Ivory. "I will," she said with more force.

"Good," Hayden said. She turned and strode back towards where the other ghosts waited.

Maddie stood where she was for a moment, looking off to the east. "I'll find you soon Ivory," she said, then went to join Hayden and the others.

* * *

The storm would have made flying nearly impossible, but Temal's magic allowed him to keep Silk Feathers flying as if it were perfect weather. They sped close to the ground under the mountain as he searched the area, looking for anything that was out of place.

Ever since the night he had seen the zombie he had been searching around the mountain, more and more certain that there was something very wrong about a zombie being out there. Most of the other hawk riders doubted him, some even accused him of vainglory, seeing enemies that were not there for a battle that only he desired.

Accusations like that had hurt, but Temal still flew out.

He became aware of someone calling him, and a moment later, in the stark, white light of a lightning flash, he saw another hawk rider. He recognized both rider and hawk; Torvin Flint Tooth and his hawk Golden Tail.

Torvin rode easily in the storm, but where Temal used his Dragon blessed magic, Torvin had only years and years of skill. He called out, but the meaning of the words was lost in the sounds of the storm. The gestures he made, though difficult to see, were easier to understand. Temal nodded and then flew after Torvin as the other hawk rider urged his hawk to fly higher, back towards the mountain.

Torvin led him to a cave on the lower slopes of the mountain, a space large enough to hold their hawks, and dry enough for their riders to be comfortable.

They did not speak at first, instead making certain their mounts were safe and then they built a fire for warmth. Only once the fire was burning and the hawks were each ripping into some raw meat, did Torvin say, "What brought you out on a night like this?"

Temal suddenly felt self conscious, and the reason that had seemed so wise earlier now seemed foolish. "I just thought," he paused, "if there was anything out there, well," he paused again, "that they might move more openly in the storm, cause they would think we would stay grounded."

"That's good thinking," Torvin said.

"It is?"

"Don't look so surprised lad," Torvin said, and then laughed.

Torvin was one of the older hawk riders, a thin, small man, all bone and muscle, his darkly tanned, often scarred skin looking like leather stretched over his bones. His was nearly bald, but for a few, wispy grey hairs above his ears. He was not a pretty man to look at, but Temal knew that the girls and women of Metagalpa looked at him as if he were young and beautiful.

Such was the legend of the man.

"I just thought…" Temal said.

"You thought I would figure you were just chasing glory?"

Temal nodded.

"Don't be a damn fool," Torvin told him. "And don't let the others make you think that you are."

"So you think there is something out there?"

"No idea," Torvin said as he took a seat near the fire. "Could be, might not be. You think there is. You had a good idea to find out."

Temal sat down across from the older man. "But you came to get me."

"Well," and Torvin looked a little embarrassed, "you got some people worried about you, and your hawk. Figured I best come and make sure that they don't have anything to worry about. So, you see anything?"

Temal shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Caught sight of things. Not sure." He sighed. "That zombie just did not seem right."

"Not like the undead ever are right. You going to go out again in a few hours, after you've warmed up and Silk Feathers has rested up?"

"Yes."

Torvin nodded. "Don't let what the others say bother you, and don't let them make you do anything stupid. You're a good rider, even if you hadn't been blessed by the Dragons it's likely you would have been chosen to ride. Maybe not for a few years yet, but you would have been."

"Thank you." Temal felt a rush of gratitude towards the old man.

"Remember Temal, one of our duties is to protect ourselves and our people. Nothing wrong with being vigilant."

Temal did his best not to smile, but he felt a warmth blossom in his chest.

It was not only the girls and women of Metagalpa that adored the old man.

* * *

Courtesan stood upon the wagon seat, staring out into the lashing rain. Ahead of her, wrapped in the soul steel and tendon traces where the ghostly horses that pulled the wagon. The soul steel rims of the wheels rolled over the ghost of a road long since lost to Creation. The unflagging endurance of the horses and the impossibly smooth surface of the road were allowing them to reach speeds that few ground vehicles in the age of sorrows could approach.

Her fine blonde hair was plastered to her skull so tightly that even the wind of their passage could not cause it to move. She constantly blinked against the rain which stung her eyes, but she remained where she was.

Behind her the other wagons followed, equally fast, carrying their loads of soul steel and the undead.

The wagon shifted slightly, rocking on its steel springs. Courtesan looked over her shoulder, the rain splashing into her ear, and saw Faded Maiden, who had obviously leapt into the wagon's bed. The rain had not seemed to touch her robes or her hair, and her white tresses flowed out behind her like a flag in the wing. She moved easily across the wagon's load of soul steel chains, ignoring the living that sat huddled together against the cold and rain.

She stepped over the seat, arranged her scythe, and then took a seat. "What do you stare out at?" she asked.

"The road," Courtesan said.

"And what about the road interests you so?"

Courtesan did not enjoy Faded Maiden's company, mostly because she knew that the other Death Knight was there to watch her. Courtesan knew that Walker did not trust her completely. Faded Maiden was her minder. She also did not like her because she so preferred the dead to the living.

She guessed that was why Walker trusted her.

"It's unlimited possibilities."

"What?"

"A road like this could go anywhere."

"It goes where our Lord wishes it to." Faded Maiden did not sound angry, nor was there any remonstration in the tone, but Courtesan suspected it was well hidden.

"Of course," Courtesan said, and then, feeling daring, "but do you claim to know our master's mind so well that you have no doubt where the road will eventually lead?"

Faded Maiden did not say anything.

The area around them was lit brightly by a flash of Lightning. Courtesan saw a village through the thick rain. Was someone looking out their window at that moment? Did they see the ghostly wagon train speeding by? Courtesan remembered sitting in a warm room, staring out into the darkness.

How innocent she had been then, never knowing that there were things like her out in the darkness.

"How wonderful storms are," she said softly.

"They will die as well," Faded Maiden said.

Courtesan frowned, for a moment she had forgotten that the other woman was there.

She bit off an angry response and said, "They always do."

Faded Maiden seemed placated by that.

Staring into the rain Courtesan thought, and they die only to be reborn again.

* * *

"I think I killed the Cathak woman," Ivory said.

"Her name was Pera Cathak," Heron told her in a clipped tone. "I asked around when we were in Great Forks," he said in way of explanation.

It was hours after the attack; a fast, hard, terrifying ride through storm and night distance from the battle ground. They had found a dry, sheltered place to camp, under a rocky over hang, in a thick copse of trees. A fire burnt on the bare stone, the wet wood set to flame with a blast from one of Heron's pistols. Nearby the horses stood, probably asleep, Ivory supposed. Hu was prowling beyond the light of the fire, ready for any threat.

"I think I killed Pera Cathak," Ivory said, and she hugged her knees to her chest. The pain from when the hilts of her swords had slammed into her had faded, as she suspected the bruises had. "I wasn't even thinking 'bout Vinleau. I was hardly thinking," Ivory said.

Heron held a piece of wet wood in his hands. It creaked and then snapped in two and he tossed it on the fire. "Just wanted to live," he said, his tone harsh.

"Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?" Ivory asked him.

"What?" Heron asked, looking away from the fire to towards her.

"You seem so angry," she said, her tone uncertain, a little scared.

He shook his head. "It's not you. It's them." He said nothing for a few seconds, and then, "I don't like being hunted, like an animal."

Ivory remembered stories she had been told of Wyld Hunts. She remembered listening to them raptly, thinking of how grand they were. She felt shamed.

The wood sizzled and popped as the water within began to boil. "How do you feel about killing her," Heron suddenly asked. His tone was mild, the anger gone from it, or at least hidden.

Ivory said nothing for several second as she thought about it. "She was tryin' to kill me, they all were. Should I've been thinking about justice?" Her tone was uncertain, so young.

Heron shook his head. "There is no justice in the middle of a heated battle, in the middle of an ambush. There is just survival."

Ivory used the back of her sleeve to wipe at her nose. "Were you afraid?"

"A little. Not much. More angry. A little fear's a good thing, but only a little."

Ivory shifted closer to the fire, pulling the cloak tighter around her. "I keep seeing her face."

They sat without speaking for a time, the fire popping and hissing, occasionally tossing sparks into the air. "What does her face look like?" Heron asked.

Ivory thought about it. "Surprised."

He nodded. "Surprised is easy. Terrified or betrayed, those are hard."

Ivory looked at him, feeling some surprise herself. She looked at the beautiful man who sat across from her, wondering who he had terrified; Whom he had betrayed.

She wanted, she realised, for Heron to tell her that she was right or she was wrong. If she was right she wanted to be praised and if wrong she wanted to be punished--well, perhaps not wanted, but expected to be. It was, she knew, the desire of a child, but she was a child. She just wanted to be a child. For a little while longer at least.

Ivory rubbed at her shoulder, remembering the sting of the demon's bite.

Reaching into the cloak Ivory brought forth the watch. She opened it up so it unfolded fully. Staring into the workings, Ivory wondered what it all meant. She still did not quite understand it. A place and a time, but what about all the other things there?

She lost herself in the workings of the watch for a long time.

* * *

The camp had been set up quickly, not too far from the place where the battle had taken place. The wounded had been treated, the dead had been prayed over and their bodies then cremated. The wounded horses had been treated if possible, put down if not.

Anzar stood near the fire, staring at the bones among the ash. Every body had been consigned to the flames, but for Pera's. He did not think that one of the Terrestrials would become an abomination in death, and he wanted to make certain that her remains were treated with more respect that a lonely fire, on a rainy night, in the middle of nowhere.

"Sir," of the mercenaries said from not far away.

Anzar turned to look at him, recognizing him as one of the fighters that had been with him during the disastrous charge at Heron. One of the few to survive the fire storm unscathed. "What is it Torkan?"

"I've been checking up on the men and the horses. We can mount everyone and be away as soon as you want."

For a short time Anzar said nothing, but then he nodded. "Good work. Make sure everyone gets some rest. As soon as it gets light enough we ride."

"Yes sir."

Torkan turned and walked off, looking reassured. Anzar had no one to give him orders, and he did not feel particularly reassured. He did not know what to do next. He should pursue Heron and the other Anathema. However, given how successful the last attempt had been, he was not certain he was up to it. Pera had been the expert, and now she lay dead. Anzar thought that it was his fault.

He was also unaccustomedly angry with Lady Blue. It had seemed a simple enough mission when she had sent him to recover a watch from a Scavenger Lord, but it had quickly become much more complicated. And now Pera was dead.

For some reason he thought that Lady Blue should have known and warned him.

Finally he realised that he could not keep staring at the fire, and the burning bones of the dead. He turned away and looked towards the smaller fires of the men and women who had followed him. They were still alive, and he owed them something.

So he went and walked among them, said words of comfort, he recalled who had been friends with who, and offered a his sympathy to those who had lost someone close to them, reminded those that wanted to hear it that dying battling an Anathema meant being reborn as a Dragon Blood. He also, carefully so as not to risk losing control of it, he fanned their anger.

When finished the atmosphere within the camp was better, still sorrowful, but with an undercurrent of hope. It was something he could work with, if necessary.

He sat down near a one of the fires, his back against his saddle and kit. He laid his sword across his knees and looked it over. Where the Solar's blade of essence had contacted his it had left small patches of darkness, like a subtle burn mark. He set at the blade with a jade sharpening stone and a patch of silk. An example set, those who could not sleep began to look to the care of their weapons.

When Anzar was satisfied with the blade he put it as his side and then ate some of the food that had been prepared. The fire heated rations were nothing special, but he was hungry and did not think too much about the taste.

By the time he finished most of the mercenaries, though he was thinking of them less like sell swords and more like his men, were asleep, but for a few who were on watch. He stood up, grabbing his sword, and went for a walk. He wanted time to think. He did not get too far, instead circling the camp. He hoped it looked more as if he were walking a perimeter rather than trying to walk off nervous energy.

He had made his sixth, perhaps seventh circle of the camp when he saw her. She stood on the road, watching him, waiting for him, Anzar was certain of that. He changed his path, walking towards her, holding his weapon relaxed, non-threatening, but ready.

She was tall, with short blue hair, dressed in a formal kimono. She held a large, sheathed sword at her side, the hit of the weapon worked in black jade. Her wooden sandals lifted her above the mud on the road, and she held her self so that the hems of her long, formal sleeves did not touch the ground.

Anzar stopped several paces from her and then waited.

She dipped her head slightly, politely, and then said, "Ragara Anzar, I am Peleps Jade Dolphin."

Something about the meeting felt unreal to Anzar, meeting a woman who looked as if she were dressed for court, on a muddy road after a battle that had gone less well than expected. Still, he bowed to her, but was at a loss for words, so still he waited.

"I have come seeking you," she said, "for you are hunting something I have interest in."

"The watch?" he asked her.

Her lips pursed slightly, but then she shook her head. "No, a child Anathema, a girl with red hair and golden eyes. I have been led to believe that you are looking for her."

He nodded, and then asked, "Why? Why are you interested in her?"

The woman said nothing for a few seconds, and then, "Peleps Ivory was my daughter."

That made sense to Anzar, but did not ease his worries. She might be a woman who wanted to kill the demon that had stolen her daughter's form. She might be a woman who wanted to find her daughter. If the former she could be a great ally. The later and she might hinder him."

Dolphin looked around. "What happened here?"

Anzar quashed the desire to answer angrily and instead said, "I tried to kill two Anathema tonight."

She nodded and waited.

"It did not go well. They escaped. We suffered casualties." He watched her carefully and said, "The Anathema with red hair and gold eyes killed Cathak Pera."

"That is unfortunate," Dolphin told him. "Will you continue your pursuit?"

It was a question that he had been asking himself. Now he had to answer it. "Yes. As soon as I can."

"I'll help you, if you allow it."

That she was asking made it easier for him. "Yes, please."

"Where will you go next?"

"I have to travel back towards Great Forks first and meet up with my men. Then Turn around and ride for Marita, see if I can pick up their trail."

"We could go to Greyfalls and gather allies," she said.

Anzar was about to say that would take far too long, but instead he asked, "Do you have transport that would allow us to travel rapidly enough, carrying all my people?"

"I do." She lifted her hand to her mouth, put a pair of fingers between her lips, and then whistled piercingly.

Anzar looked around, wondering what she was calling. He felt it before he saw it, a mass of air being pushed along by something huge. When he finally saw in the dark sky he could not believe it at first. It was easily hundreds of feet long, a sinuous form that twisted back on itself as it flew lower.

First he noticed it was white, a strange sort of white, seeming to shimmer between a pure white to a dark grey. It was covered in fur, and had the head of a lion, its long body like that of a serpent, with eight sets of limbs. He could hear the exclamations from the men and women behind him. The beast was now pure white and seemed to shine in the darkness and against the storm clouds.

It put down on the road, the talonned feet on each of its legs sinking into the dirt and mud.

"We can ride upon its back," Dolphin said.

Anzar nodded, for this creature's huge back was broad and he suspected that a legion could easily ride upon it. Then his attention was pulled away from the huge creature to the noises behind him. His people were starting at the beast, some in wonder and some in terror. He turned and strode towards them, calling out, "The Dragons bless our endeavours, for they have sent us a way to travel quickly." He needed to calm them down before someone panicked.

During the time he reassured his forces and got them ready to go Dolphin leaned against one of the creature's front legs, watching him.

The sun was not quite up, but the rain had stopped and the clouds were being blown away, when he had his people ready to go. They would have to leave the horses, so he left some of the walking wounded behind to take care of them. The badly wounded he would take with him, see if he could get them treatment.

He approached Dolphin and said, "We're ready to go."

She nodded, then looked at the people gathered behind him. "You can grab hold of the fur; you'll find climbing it easy. Set yourself on its back, between the rear two sets of legs." To demonstrate she turned, grabbed a handful of the white fur, and climbed up the beast's side. She managed to make it look surprisingly elegant for someone dressed in a formal kimono.

"Okay, you heard her, get up there," Anzar called out.

The men and women did as they were told, climbing up the side of the creature. Anzar found the thick, ropey fur soft, like silk, but easy to get a grip on. The fur seemed to gather under him, providing him with a good, solid set of foot and hand holds. In a moment he was up on the wide back.

He took a moment to look up at its head, then down at it tail, marvelling at its size. Then he got his men settled where he had been told. He saw most of them grabbing hold of the fur on the back, obliviously to hold themselves on. Anzar did not think they needed to, suspecting Jade Dolphin would have said something were it necessary.

When it took to the air is did not leap, but simply floated up. It was as if the ground fell slowly away.

Once it was several hundred feet in the air it turned gently, its body undulating in shallow waves, and then started flying back towards Great Forks.

He turned to look towards Blue Dolphin. She stood close to the creature's head, leaning into the fur at its neck. He supposed she might be directing it, but he could not help but feel she was talking to it.

* * *

"You're feeling very satisfied at the moment," the voice echoed in Jade Dolphin's head, like whale song.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The Behemoth she rode upon had served her family for as long as anyone could remember, for reasons that no one knew. It was likely Tapachu, the Behemoth, knew, but he had never said.

"You know exactly what I am talking about," Tapachu said. "Ever since you heard Ivory killed that woman you've been secretly pleased. You're proud of her."

"Even if that thing is my daughter, which I don't entirely believe, it is an Anathema." Her tone was cold, downright frosty.

"You don't care." It was like he was laughing at her.

"What you are suggesting is against everything I believe in. Everything I have been taught. Do you think I could just put my daughter ahead of all that?"

"You admitted that she is your daughter," Tapachu said, his tone making it apparent that he thought he had just scored points.

"The point," she said in clipped words, "is that my daughter would not make me put my beliefs aside, and some demon that has taken her shape is even less likely to make me do so."

"Liar."

"Shut up and fly."

Tapachu's laughter echoed within her head.


	15. Rest, Battle, Allies and Enemies

Ivory and Heron had rode into Marita a little before noon. Heron did not waste much time with subtlety, telling Ivory they would be subtle when they left. Choosing an out of the way, yet not inexpensive, Inn, he got Ivory and the horses set up and comfortable before leaving to take care of other things.

Ivory took advantage of the rich surroundings to take a long, hot bath, sleep on clean, silk sheets, and order some new clothing.

Heron talked to people, charmed them, paid bribes the few times charm alone failed, and arranged several ways in which he and Ivory might quietly leave the city, in every believable direction, and a few unbelievable ones too. Anyone who tried to find them was going to be presented with as many false trails as he could arrange.

Ivory awoke from a night mare she could not remember, trembling on her soft bed; Hu lying beside her, telling her it would be alright. She found herself thinking of the woman she had killed. It felt strange to have taken a life.

She tried to speak to Hu about it, but he seemed not to understand. For him killing was not something to be thought about, simply done when required. He was not a good listener for such a discussion.

When Heron returned her hopes of talking to him seemed in vain. He looked tired, still beautiful, but tired. He told her that food was coming up, and then went to bathe. After bathing he wolfed down the delicacies as if he did not taste them, told her they would be leaving a little after midnight, and then went to his room to fall asleep.

As Ivory sat on her bed, examining the watch, she wondered if her uncertainty and confusion were part of growing up.

She laughed softly.

As powerful as the demon had been, and while she might be able to lock Ivory's physical form, it seemed she was going to grow up, at least in some ways.

It made her feel better.

* * *

Two young men and a woman came running into the central square, screaming and crying, obviously panicked. One of the young men was bloody, deep lacerations across his face and right shoulder. A woman came running from a small bakery, screaming at the three, demanding to know where her daughter was.

It took several minutes to sort out, and it was not until Torvin came into the square and shouted for silence that some semblance of order was found and the story was told.

Not far away Temal listened and when the identity of the attacker came out the old hawkrider looked to the younger. Temal nodded and sped off on his own, along the mountain trail that the three had come running down not so long ago.

The path twisted up into a sheltered plateau where goats were kept. It was not a well kept path and often required crossing difficult sections of rock. For the most part Temal simply leapt across such impediments, the winds around him lifting him up, and he feared no drops.

In almost less time than it would have taken to get his hawk mount and fly there, he stood on a small raise, looking down at the plateau.

The herds of goats were nowhere to be seen. He supposed that they had fled higher up the mountain side.

The baker's daughter was easy enough to find. The scent of ruptured bowels led him right to her.

Over her corpse, feeding, were a pair of zombies, their stink almost overwhelming the stink of the girl's insides.

One of the zombies raised a bloody, decaying face towards Temal. It might have tried to scream, but it had no tongue and its cheeks were rotted away. Using its hands, its twisted legs kicking ineffectively, it made its way towards Temal, crawling.

Temal clenched his teeth against the bile rising in his throat and took the blue jade chakram from his belt. He made a throwing, slashing motion, and a wave of air sped from the enchanted jade and slammed into the zombie, crushing its shoulder and taking one of its arms off.

The zombie still tried to crawl towards him, its one hand clutching at the grassy ground in an attempt to pull itself forward. Grimacing in disgust he finished it off, sending three concussive waves of air at it to takes its head from its shoulders.

The one that was still feeding on the dead girl he destroyed with one, precise throw.

Leaving the mess behind he went to sweep the plateau, making certain there were no other zombies there. When he returned to the place where the attack had taken place he found Torvin and several other hawkriders, and their hawks, waiting for him.

"Any others?" Torvin asked without preamble.

Temal shook his head. "None around here at least."

"What are zombies doing up here?" Barinna Oshan asked as she prodded one of the bodies with the tip of her sword. She was a middle aged woman, pretty enough, with a lean, small body. She shaved her head and it had the effect of making her brown eyes seem larger, giving her a guileless appearance.

Torvin prodded another with his boot, tapping down the length of its body. "Did you shatter the bones in its legs?" he asked Temal.

"No."

"I wonder what did?"

"A fall from a great height?" Barinna suggested as she wiped the tip of her sword blade on the grass.

"Maybe a suicide jumper," Portus Tinsen said. He was a young man, not much more than a year or two older than Temal. He was taller than most hawkriders, but very thin, and his hair was almost a white blonde with silver highlights. Handsome, with round, blue eyes, and a confident way about him.

"They probably jumped, died, and then came back," Portus continued.

"Hear of any recent jumpers?" Barinna asked him.

"Well, not for maybe six or seven years," he admitted.

"These don't look more than a few weeks dead," Torvin said.

Temal enjoyed seeing Portus' theory put down so quickly. Portus had been one of those who had given him difficulties, suggesting that he was not really cut out to be a hawkrider.

"It could be related to the one I saw before," Temal said.

"That was on the ground. How do you suppose these got up here?" Portus asked.

"Maybe they were thrown up here," Temal told him, fighting to keep his voice even.

Portus snorted.

"Would explain their broken legs, maybe," Barinna said.

"You can't be serious?" Portus said.

She turned towards him, her gaze level. "I was not aware I was known for my joking manner."

Portus did not blush, but he did seem put off balance by the older woman's gaze. "I'm just saying, how would you do it? You'd need some huge machine to toss things so high."

"That is a valid point," Torvin said.

Temal was a little disappointed by Torvin supporting Portus, but then he told himself that things were too serious for him to be thinking in such a petty manner. "I would like to fly out, see if there is such a huge machine, or at least some place where it might be hidden."

"No," Torvin said, "but we will make it part of regular patrols."

Portus opened his mouth as if to say something, but a stern look from Torvin made him close his mouth.

"And we'll increase patrols around the mountain itself. We'll have the birdmen do that I think," Barinna added.

Torvin nodded and then turned to look at the bodies of the zombies.

Temal looked at them as well and wondered if the old man was thinking what he was thinking. Their mountain home no longer seemed as safe as it once had.

* * *

Anzar entered Greyfalls with a small entourage of monks and a few trusted retainers. They carried Pera's body with them on a stretcher, covered with a silk shroud He had left the mercenaries about an hour outside of the city, feeling that they would not be of an immediate benefit to have them with him. Jade Dolphin had stayed behind by her choice, saying she wished to remain as anonymous as possible.

Politics, Anzar suspected.

A ferry carried them across the river, passing under the giant stone pillars of the long fallen Lesser Rock Bridge. They passed quickly through Nooji Plaza, ignoring the prostitutes and beggars. His ultimate goal was the heights of the Garrison, and the priory.

He had already been asked for identification when he had entered the city, but there were even more stringent demands when he entered Garrison Heights. He presented papers, answered questions, and when the gate guards asked why he wanted to go to the priory he indicated the stretcher on which Pera's body rested.

They let him pass through without any further questions.

The priory was the main temple for the Immaculate Order in the east, the woman in charge of it all, Sister Cloud Hands, was famous. Anzar had sought her out both that she might see Pera properly interred, and to ask her help.

There were various minor functionaries that he had to pass through, but he was a Terrestrial Exalted, and the burden he carried demanded respect and sorrow. He hardly paid any attention to the beautiful temple, for his thoughts were on other things. He pushed forward and told himself there would be time later to take in the majesty.

It was not long before he was shown into the office of Cloud Hands.

She was everything he had expected. Beautiful, strong, she smiled kindly as she stood and welcomed into the room.

"Welcome to Greyfalls," she said as she showed him to a seat. "I am sorry for your loss. Cathak Pera was a brave woman. Can you tell me exactly how she died?"

"She was killed by an Anathema," he said simply.

Cloud Hands nodded as she returned to her seat behind her desk. "I feared as much. In times like these I feel the loss of each Terrestrial. Please, if you will, tell me how it happened."

Anzar did as she asked, telling her everything that had happened since he had left the Blessed Isle with Pera and their servants. He tried to keep it brief, knowing that Cloud Hands was busy, but she kept asking for more detail, and the telling grew longer and longer.

He skipped over the details of Pelep's arrival and only said that the Dragons' blessing allowed them to travel so far and so fast.

She did not push him on it.

When he finally finished his mouth was feeling dry and he gratefully took cup of tea that Cloud Hands offered.

"To find two Anathema together," she said, "these times are dark indeed."

Anzar nodded. "Darker than I had thought."

"And one of them carries an artifact you were sent to retrieve. What is it, this watch?"

"I don't really know," Anzar told her. "And to be honest, I don't think Lady Blue knows what it is either. Just that it is somehow dangerous and the Mouth of Peace would have it secured."

"I find that disturbing."

"I need your help," Anzar told her. "You are the closest outpost of the Empire, and I believe that the Anathema travel towards us even now."

"They are coming to Greyfalls?" she asked, curiosity in her tone, but no fear.

That there was no fear in her voice reassured Anzar that coming to her had been the right choice.

"No, but for the moment it seems their path takes them in this direction, along the Great Eastern Road."

Her manner was thoughtful, and she ran her hand over her bare head. Anzar noted that there was a faint shadow of newly grown hair across her scalp. "Of course I will help you. It is my duty to protect the souls of all those in this region and Anathema are a threat to those souls. What forces do you command at this moment?"

Anzar told her, again, leaving out Jade Dolphin and her strange beast. He was not certain if she would even remain.

Cloud Hands picked up a brush and drew it across an ink stone. With precise and flowing strokes she drew up an order for the housing and feeding of Anzar's people. "We'll need to gather our forces first, see what we have, and we'll have little time before we must leave."

"You'll be coming?" Anzar asked, surprised.

She nodded. "It is important, and while I have many responsibilities here, few are so grave as the threat of Anathema. The people will expect me to take a direct hand."

She said the last with a strange passion that Anzar could not understand, but he did not think over much on it.

"I will be happy to follow you into battle," he told her, and it was true enough.

"Thank you for your vote of confidence. I will do my utmost to justify it."

"I want to approach General Cathak Kitono next," Anzar told her. "Both to offer my condolences for Pera's death and to see what aid he might offer."

"Were they related?"

"Distantly."

She nodded. "I see. Well, of course you should visit him."

"You don't think he will offer help?"

"I cannot say for certain. Things are," she paused, "difficult."

Politics, Anzar thought. Well, it was hardly surprising or unexpected. "I will hope for the best then."

She nodded. "Well, we have much to do in a short time. We had best get to work."

* * *

Gazan Mnemon walked through the beautiful and majestic halls of the Imperial palace, but did not see any of it. His attention was elsewhere, some of it on his companion.

Tolsay Mnemon was a tall man, with his brown hair lacquered into spikes, brown eyes usually hidden behind a pair of glasses with tinted lenses. He wore tight, black leather pants, and a loose, white silk shirt, with a half cloak of red and black over it. At his waist were the hilts of a pair of red and white jade beamklaives.

Tolsay had been a criminal lord out in the Threshold sixteen years prior, before the Empress had suggested that Gazan arrange his adoption into the family and take him on into the Left.

At the time Gazan recalled being somewhat angered by the Empress' actions, but Tolsay had proven his worth.

"Where is Peleps Jade Dolphin?" Gazan asked. It was his real reason for arranging a meeting with Tolsay.

"Ahh, that's a tough question to answer, ya know," Tolsay replied.

"I am not in the mood for games?"

"Who's playin' games? Woman gots a way of making herself scarce. Everyone says she at a temple on the Mountain, gettin' all pure like."

"Is she?"

"Think they let the likes of me into a temple like that?"

"No, I suppose not."

"And the acolytes are all like virgins who never leave the place until they retire to get married."

"Any of them retiring soon?"

"No luck, but I'm watchin'."

"Do you think she is there?"

"Nah. Think she's gone for a runner. Still trying ta figure where."

"What about stories of Anathema in the threshold?"

"Too damn many of them."

Gazan stopped suddenly, losing Tolsay for a few seconds as the other man continued to walk. Tolsay stopped and turned to face him.

Around them were trophies that the Empress had taken from hundreds of battles, things terrible and wonderful. Neither man was really seeing them.

"I need you to find where the Peleps woman has gone." His tone was flat.

"I am working on it," Tolsay said, all traces of his accent vanished. "As you requested, I have put almost all my immediately available resources on it. However, the woman is good at this."

"You should be better."

"Maybe ya can hire her." He smiled.

"I might at that." He started walking again.

"Be nice ta retire," Tolsay said as he fell in beside Gazan.

* * *

The conversation between Gazan and Tolsay had not gone unobserved. Dreaming Blue stood, unseen, not far from the two men.

What had Ivory Peleps done that made Gazan so desirous to find her?

Perhaps if the girl survived what was coming Dreaming would take the time to find out.

* * *

The ghosts stood amidst the burnt out ruins of an ancient village, within the small shadowland. Maddie stood still as Hayden once again concentrated on the soul steel orb, seeking out Ivory's location. "She is moving so very fast," Hayden said.

Maddie opened her eyes. "We will be able to catch up?"

"I think so." Hayden returned the orb to her cloak. "We will have to move quickly across the underworld, but for the moment we will rest a while."

The other ghosts welcomed the pronouncement. Even the dead could become tired, Maddie thought. But they had been crossing great distances in the underworld, much of it wild and dangerous. They had been fighting almost constantly. Maddie thought she should be exhausted, but she was not. Her mind was full of other things.

She walked over to where Hayden stood. "Can I speak to you?"

Hayden looked at her and then nodded. "What concerns you Maddie?"

"Why does our lord," she had been thinking of Walker as her lord since she had left the chamber, "want Ivory? Why is he going to such lengths to protect her?"

"You're worried about the girl."

Maddie nodded.

"I won't lie to you," Hayden said, and her lips shifted into what might be a smile, "Ivory is an important person, and Lord Walker wishes that she might help him, when she grows up. He wants her to be protected so that she can grow up."

"But what if she does not want to help him?"

"Then she will, once she is old enough to make such decisions, be allowed to seek her own destiny. After all, did Lord Walker force you to serve him?"

Something about the question bothered Maddie, but she still shook her head and said, "No."

"Of course not."

Something still bothered Maddie. She remembered Ivory, standing in the Inn's common room, facing off against one of the farmers. He had accused Ivory letting the chickens out of his coop. Ivory had said she had not and refused to back down. Maddie had been pretty certain that Ivory had done it, but the girl had stood her ground.

The memory filled her with a sense of pride.

"What if she is already doing something? What if she refuses to come with us?"

Hayden said nothing for a few seconds, then, "We will go with her, if she will have us, to protect her."

Maddie nodded, feeling relieved.

"Go and get some rest Maddie."

Maddie did so.

* * *

The general's office was filled with plain, utilitarian furniture; a large, scarred desk, an even larger meeting table, book shelves and small furniture of various types. Most of the available surfaces were covered with papers, from maps to notes.

Anzar stood near the table, wondering how many of the things scattered on its surface were military secrets. Or maybe it was all a blind, tricks against anyone who might seek such secrets.

When the door opened behind him he turned.

"Sir," he said politely to Kitono Cathak, General and leader of Greyfalls' forces.

Kitono was in his late seventies, young for his position some might say. His short hair was red, his eyes brown. He wore his armour and weapon comfortably and there was something almost dismissive in the look that he gave Anzar.

"I understand that I have you to thank for bringing my cousin's body for proper burial," he said.

Anzar was certain, from the tone, that what was meant was 'I have you to thank for my cousin's death.'

"Were time not so pressing I would have taken her to the Blessed Isle," he said, careful not to get upset, or at least not to let his emotions show.

"Yes, pressing time, I've heard about that." He walked across the room, his armoured boots thumping on the stone floor, and took a seat behind his desk. "You and Cloud Hands are preparing a Wyld Hunt."

Anzar walked around the table so he stood in front of the desk. When Kitono indicated he could sit Anzar did so. "We are, which is why I wanted to speak with you."

"What exactly are you facing?"

"A pair of Anathema, both very powerful."

"And they are approaching Greyfalls?"

"Yes, but I can't think that they are coming here."

"Why not? Perhaps they are planning to conquer this region."

Anzar thought it a strange thing to be worried about. He did not think that the gambler or the girl could hope to conquer the region, let alone hold it. But he did not say that, though he did wonder what was on Kitono's mind that he would think it.

"All the more reason to deal with them," Anzar said.

* * *

The wagons were neatly arrayed on a piece of rough ground, the traces empty. In the light of the day the horses and the road that they had run upon were gone. The living had made a camp, sleeping and eating and dealing with the other necessities of the flesh.

Nihilistic Courtesan stood away from them, upon a small raise, her long power bow in her hands. She drew back an arrow, pulling the nock back even with her ear, the fletching caressing her cheek. She released, watching as the arrow shot high into the sky, the sun light catching and reflecting off the steel broad head, making it sparkle.

Drawing another arrow she put it to string, drew back, and fired, the arrow tracing out a shallow arc as it sped off in neatly a straight line.

Far off the second arrow hit the first, the arrow heads shattering against each other, a sparkle of metal shards raining down.

She lowered her bow and lifted her head, staring at the sun, blinking in the bright light. She closed her eyes and raised her chin, feeling the warmth on the pale skin of her face and neck. How wonderful, she thought. It seemed a long time since she had last left the Shadowlands, could enjoy the true warmth of the sun upon her.

The warmth disappeared as a shadow fell across her.

Courtesan opened her eyes, surprised, finding The Faded Maiden standing beside her, holding a large, dark parasol so that it shielded them both. "You'll be burned by the sun," The Faded Maiden warned. She almost sounded as if she cared.

"Yes, I suppose I would be. Thank you."

The Faded Maiden walked her back to the wagons and the tarpaulin that had been set up as shelter. Courtesan stepped under the tarp and took a seat on some ragged cushions.

"You shoot well," the Maiden said.

"Thank you."

"Tell me, do you find your existence to be unpleasant?" The Maiden took a seat across from her, staring at her. She did not give Courtesan a chance to answer, but quickly continued, "Our Lord Walker asked me to watch you, for he was concerned that you might regret the choice you made. He wanted me 

to remind you that you can always chose the death you so desperately wanted to avoid. He wanted me to remind you that running is not an option."

Courtesan swallowed. "I know that. I never thought of running."

"I'm not entirely certain of that, and just so you know, if you try, I will kill you. Lord Walker did not want you to know that, but I am using my initiative in telling you this."

"I appreciate that greatly," Courtesan said, careful to keep any sarcasm from her tone.

The Faded Maiden reached up and gently stroked Courtesan's cheek. "Remember, try to run and I will destroy you."

Her touch was gentle, her skin smooth and surprisingly warm. Her words were kind. And yet for some reason Courtesan found her voice stolen from her, and she only nodded.

"I'm glad we have reached an understanding."

The Faded Maiden stood and walked away, climbing under one of the wagons to shelter with the zombies there.

Courtesan shivered and looked away.

* * *

The Sixth Love Homestead appeared in the middle of empty, wild land along the Great Eastern Road. Around the walled village were acres and acres of tilled fields, orchards and grazing lands. While it was something of a bastion along the road, few travellers chose to stop there for the people of the Homestead were said to be strange.

That had not stopped Ivory or Heron from stopping there after a long day of hard riding.

Under Heron's tutelage Ivory had learned several charms that allowed her to help Humming Bird keep up with Dragon. They had been riding far each day, long into the night, and it was more often their own exhaustion rather than that of the horses' that had made them stop to rest.

In the few days since they had left Marita the two Solars had covered hundreds of miles.

At the Sixth Love Homestead they had decided to stop early in order to sleep under a roof.

The tall men and woman of the Homestead were certainly odd, quite probably with the blood of gods in their veins, Heron thought. There was something animalistic about them. They were, however, decent hosts.

There was no Inn in the Homestead, but there were several guest houses. A few pieces of jade had arranged for the horses to be stabled and a rather comfortable house for his and Ivory's use. They might look animalistic, but they were friendly enough and excellent cooks.

He shifted back from the table, picking up his glass of desert wine.

Ivory, who had finished eating, was sitting on some cushions, examining the watch. She was dressed in a light robe of thin cotton, having taken a bath earlier. Heron finished his wine and put the empty glass down. He got up from the table and walked over to where Ivory say. Dropping to his knees beside her he looked at what she was doing.

"It's different," he said.

"I know," Ivory said, not looking away from the watch. "It's changing, all the time, when I think I understand it, it makes it harder." Ivory shook her head. "I think it's testing me."

She sounded upset.

"Is it alive, does it think?" Heron had not given too much thought to the watch, beyond that it was the reason behind much of what was happening.

"No, not really, but, I think whoever made it was clever enough to make it seem that way."

"Tell me what you have found out," Heron told her. It was time he had a better idea just what he was dealing with.

Ivory looked at him, appearing surprised for a moment, but she nodded.

"kay," she said. She placed the watch on the floor, spreading out a piece of black velvet beneath it. "I guess, first of all, there's what it's made of." She picked up a small, metal probe. "Most of it is orichalcrum and moonsilver, with the moonsilver," she used the probe to point at the various pieces, "used for the parts that need to change shape."

Heron noted that she sounded proud, happy to be showing off her knowledge, he supposed.

"Then, at various points, at the pivot and anchor points I guess you can call them, there is starmetal."

"Starmetal?"

She nodded.

"What is it?"

"Metal from stars," she said.

Heron was not sure if it was a smart ass answer, or just the simple truth.

"Is that it?"

"Little bit of jade here and there, mostly on the exterior, but some within, for decoration and a bit of strength. And then there is what looks like brass, placed and platted in various places. Not sure what it does yet."

That bothers her, Heron thought, realising he was learning more about his companion than the watch. Perhaps that was the real reason he had asked her. Too smart for her own good at times, he decided. She did not like not knowing things.

"Then there is this," she said, and handed him a jewellers glass.

He put it to his eye and looked to where she indicated. "Is that a glass bead?" he asked her.

"A piece of adamant, with so many facets it's nearly round," she said.

"It's vibrating."

"That powers the workin's."

"And the black wire wrapped around it?"

She said nothing.

He looked up at her and took the glass from his eye. "Ivory?"

"Soul steel," she answered.

Heron had heard of the strange metal sometimes wielded by the dead and those in the service to the dead. He did not really know very much about it, beyond a dark reputation. He suspected Ivory might know more; it was obvious the metal made her uncomfortable.

"Look closer at the adamant," she told him.

He put the glass back to his eye and she as she had said. "I don't see anything."

"I'll lower the lamp," she told him.

The area around him grew darker as Ivory trimmed the lamp wick. He was not sure what he was expected to see at first. "Wait," he said, "it's glowing from within."

"Yes."

The room grew brighter and then Ivory returned to the cushion.

"You don't know what it is, do you," Heron said.

She shook her head. "Not yet. But I will. I'm nearly there."

"Close it up and get some sleep Ivory," he told her.

"But…"

"Get some rest." His tone was firm.

Ivory frowned, and for a moment Heron thought she might argue, but she reached down and, with a touch, caused the watch to fold up. She gathered up the watch and her tools and carried them to the bedroom.

Heron wondered if she would continue to work on it under the sheets. The girl, he thought, needs a nanny or a governess.

Then again, she was probably going to grow up fast. Children did that, he had noticed. Ones like Ivory faster than most. In that case, maybe a pretty gambler would do, for the short term.

He cleaned up the table, stacking the empty plates and glasses neatly, and then went to wash up.

When he came back to the room he found a young woman cleaning up, stacking the plates on a tray and wiping off the table. She smiled at him, in a friendly manner, though with her somewhat larger than normal eye teeth there was a certain air of danger.

"Thank you," he told her.

"Of course," she said.

"Does anyone gamble around here?" he asked.

"Cards, dice?"

"Either, I prefer cards."

Her smile grew broader. "Friendly game?"

"Would be fine with me."

"Friends and I are going to be playing bit. Wanna come?"

He was not surprised at the offer; however, he wanted to avoid any problems. "I'm a man you know."

Still smiling she breathed in deeply though her nose and then said, "I know."

"Well then, I would be delighted."

Heron helped her with the rest of the cleaning and then left the house with her.

It had been too long since he had been able to play some cards. Ivory, for all her talents, was not very good.

She was terrible at bluffing.

* * *

Peeking through the curtains of the window of her room, Ivory watched as Heron went off into the night with the young woman. She snorted, a little angry. "Sending me off to bed so he can go out with someone like that," she said, perturbed. "Stupid Heron."

She let the curtain fall back and then moved to the lamp, turning it up. The room had a large mirror and Ivory went to stand in front it. She looked at herself, turned her profile towards the glass, and then pulled on her cotton night dress so it was tight against her slim body.

Looking over her shoulder at Hu she asked, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Hu stared at her for several seconds, then, with deliberate care, rolled over on the bed, putting his back to her.

"Hu," she whined.

The Tiger began to snore. At least Ivory assumed it was supposed to be a snore.

She was fairly certain he was feigning sleep.

"Stupid Heron," she said again and walked over to the bed. "He's my prince," she mumbled as she climbed under the covers.

Ivory lay in the soft, tiger warmed bed, fighting off the sudden desire to sleep. She took the watch from under the pillows and then held it in front of her, staring at the face through the crystal. She ran her thumb 

across the case, causing the face to fade away, allowing her to stare directly at the workings. It seemed so much larger within, as if she had it completely unfolded from the case.

The wick of the lamp burned lower, dimmed, casting odd, dancing shadows around the room. In the growing darkness of the room the glow from within the adamant became easier to see. Its strange light and impossible to place colour was like a baleful eye. She snapped the case close and rolled over in the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

"I will learn your secrets," she said fiercely a moment before she fell asleep.


	16. Arm of a Giant and a Wyld Hunt

Temal leapt down from a small raise, the winds whipping around him to slow his fall. He kicked the zombie in the jaw as he came down, shattering most of its lower skull. As his feet touched down on the rocky ground he lashed out with his chakram, finishing off the undead.

"Thrice damned things," he said, and then spat on the corpse.

"Is it dead?" a quavering voice called from above.

"It was dead to begin with," Temal shouted, "it's destroyed."

"Thank the stars," a large man said, peeking over the ledge from which Temal had leapt.

Temal shook his head and reached up to grab a handhold in the rock. A moment later he began to pull himself up the cliff face.

"Here, let me give you a hand Temal," Othan said, offering his hand.

Othan was a large man, tall, broad across the shoulders, even a little fat. He smiled and laughed a lot. Temal found him annoying, but, he admitted, it was hard not to like the big roc rider.

"When I saw that thing I was sure that I would not be able to get to my supplies." He pulled Temal up.

"That is the third one today." Temal turned and looked down on the broken body.

"Where are they coming from?"

"That's what I would like to know."

Temal wanted to be out on his hawk, looking for whatever was threatening his home, but Torvin had put him on patrol duty, dealing with the zombies. Being right should be enough, he supposed.

"Well, since you're here, you can help me carry some supplies back to the town." Othan slapped him on the back.

Temal sighed and nodded. Now he was going to be carrying boxes.

The supplies were in a shallow cave, sealed by a heavy, wooden door. Inside were boxes and barrels of alcohol. Othan winked at Temal as he handed him a box full of bottles packed in straw.

As they walked back to the town Othan spoke on length about various trading deals he had going, and how the current problems were interfering with all those plans. Temal answered any questions put to him in a polite but non-committal way, not that Othan asked all that many questions. Mostly he liked to talk.

They were near the town when someone came running along the path, calling Temal's name.

It was Bimal, the baker, and the mother of girl who was the first victim of the zombies. "Temal," she said, "quick, go to the central square. They found something!"

Having killed the zombies that had killed her daughter had earned Temal the baker's respect. She obviously thought something important was happening.

Temal pushed the box of alcohol into Othan's hands, leaving the man overburdened, said a quick thank you to Bimal, then ran off towards the central square.

He saw several of the hawkriders there, surrounded by townspeople. A hawk rider called Perpan Fair Face, an older woman, knelt in the middle of the group, drawing in the dirt.

Torvin spotted Temal first and waved him over. In a low tone of voice he told Temal, "Perpan and Portus spotted something to the West, near the Blue Stone foothills."

Temal nodded, looking at the map that Perpan had drawn in the dirt.

"I flew over there the other day."

Torvin nodded. "I did as well, several days back. I think we're looking at something that moves."

"Something?"

"Catapult hurling zombies."

Temal could not help but look towards Portus, remembering what he had said when the suggestion had been made that the zombies had been hurled up. He was glad that Portus was not looking. There was already enough bad blood between them. No need to make an issue of a mistake.

Perpan finished her drawing, a rather detailed map, sketched out in incredible quality, considering it was in dirt and done with a stick. "So this is more or less how it all is," she said, looking up at the assembled hawk riders. Her voice had a rough edge to it, one that Temal recalled from his early days training to become a hawk rider.

"We flew down to get a better look," Portus said, "dove down fast."

Perpan nodded. "We pulled back before we got a good look, but saw what looked like a lot of people down there, probably a lot of them zombies."

"How were they armed?" Torvin asked her.

"No idea," she told him. "We got driven back by owls and mospids and other small birds."

"They rose up in a huge cloud, it was unbelievable," Portus added.

"Trained birds?"

"Yeah. Makes me think it's the Haltans."

"Haltans and Zombies?"

"Doesn't make much sense to me either."

"It's got to go," Korvin said. "Can't let them attack us like this."

"Tough going. We saw the birds, figure they got to have archers as well."

"We can bomb them," Temal said.

"What?" Perpan asked.

Everyone was looking at Temal.

Temal swallowed, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "Send one or two of the rocs up high," Temal said, and he looked about for Orthan, "we can drop lamp oil, or alcohol, down on them. Set it all on fire from high up."

His suggestion was met with a mix of interest and derision, but Korvin and some of the older hawk riders looked thoughtful.

"We'd have to be careful with the rocs," Perpan said.

"Orthan!" Temal called out, spotting them man. "Over here."

Orthan made his way to the gathering, looking a little concerned. That concern grew when Temal explained his plan.

"I'm not sure about this," the merchant said. "I don't much like the idea of mixing fire and feathers, if you know what I mean."

"What if we could come up with a safe way to do it?" Temal asked him.

"We could put hot coals in a sealed clay jars," Portus said, "and attach them to the containers of oil. You only get flame when they hit and break open."

"I got to admit, I like the sound of that better," Orthan said. "But not by much."

Korvin reached out and put a hand on Orthan's shoulder. "You'll be joining us in battle," he told the merchant.

Orthan looked miserable as he nodded.

* * *

Two of the huge rocs, howdahs on their backs, flew high. Around the mighty birds were twelve hawks, well armed and light armoured hawk riders upon their backs. Temal rode easily upon Silk Feathers, 

staring down towards the Blue Stone Foothills. They were too far up for him to make out much, but he could see the large gathering of people there, as well as the large bulk of the catapult.

How had they missed this?

Even as he watched the machine moved, and he saw something small hurtling towards the flying mountain. Fighting off the urge to turn and chase after it, to kill the zombie before it could even land on his mountain home, he remained in formation.

The rocs began to circle, the hawks moving in and out of that circle, waiting for any threat that might present itself to those large, precious birds.

It was from Orthan's roc that the first cask was hurled. As had been agreed Temal dove after it, watching it. He was not going to follow it all the way to the ground, but he had to be able to see exactly where it hit.

He slowed, letting the cask speed ahead of him. Still too far up to make out fine details, he saw the explosion of fire erupt amongst a group of massing figures.

Pulling up he had Silk Feather speed upwards, back to the others. There he called out the results of the drop, how close it had come to the catapult, where it had hit.

Then another cask was tossed down. Another hawk rider took his turn, diving down to mark the spot where the cask impacted.

After about six drops the bombardiers upon the rocs had the target zeroed in. They began to hurl the casks down in earnest. From high above Temal watched the fires blossom on and around the catapult. Thick black smoke and flames hid the area. Too far up for the smell the burning wood, and no doubt flesh, to carry, Temal could only guess what was going on down there.

"That should teach them!" a hawk rider called out. Her name was Silver Fingers, and she was another hawk rider blessed by the dragons.

"Burn you bastards!" Portus screamed.

Temal was smiling, watching the flames and the smoke. He did not know what the attack had been about, but he was fairly certain that they had stopped it.

Then, from the flames, came a flaming bundle, rocketing towards them. The hawks and the rocs had enough time to clear out of the way. Temal saw the flaming body of a bundled up zombie sail past them. He found himself staring across the open air at Portus. Portus looked as confused as Temal felt.

With a deft hand Temal sent Silk Feathers diving towards the flames below. Around him his anima flared, buffeting winds of ice, shot through with lightning. Silk Feather was not harmed by the cutting ice or the discharges of electricity for Temal knew magic that protected his mount.

Out of the corner of his eye she spotted another rider who was surrounded by flame: Silver Fingers, he knew.

The catapult fired again and from the flames came another of the burning zombies. Silk Feathers performed a wing over and, clinging to his mount, Temal looked down to see the zombie pass beneath.

It was, he noted, screaming.

Then he righted Silk Feather and continued downwards.

From somewhere off to the side a cloud of birds and other small, flying creatures rose up and sped towards him and Silver Fingers and their hawks. The small animals were torn apart or burnt by the riders' animas before they could close.

The flames around the catapult had subsided slightly and Temal was close enough to finally see what the siege engine was.

What he saw filled him with amazement and terror that made his guts feel as if they had gone to water.

It was not a catapult, but a vast arm of blackened bone, wrapped in blackened metal. As he watched the hand reached out and grasped one of the burning zombies. Moving on its own it shifted about and then hurled the payload into the air.

How could such a thing exist?

From where the birds had flown from earlier came a flight of arrows. Temal slashed about him with his chakram, buffets of winds knocking the arrows aside as he and his mount speed in the direction of the attack.

Flying only a few hand spans above the rocky ground Temal charged the archers. He recognised them for Haltans, with their green hair and ruddy brown skin. They fired more arrows, but their aim was spoiled by the hawk's speed and agile flight. One arrow was deflected off his breastplate, the steel head cutting across his cheek.

It stung, but he put it from his mind.

As he flew through the Haltans he lashed out with his chakram, the blades of wind cut down the men and women, leaving them wounded or dead behind him.

Silk Feathers drove mightily with his wings, shooting up into the air. Temal looked over his shoulder, saw Silver Fingers following upon Six Luck Talon, saw the dead and burning bodies she had left behind her.

The attack made him feel better, but it had not changed things. The huge, animated arm continued to throw its payloads of zombies towards the flying mountain.

Temal and Silver Fingers continued to fly about the catapult, dodging or knocking aside the occasional arrow. Silver Fingers went and attacked the foolish archers, lashing them with her flaming chain of red jade.

When the last of the zombies had either been hurled or had burnt to nothing, something terrible and amazing happened.

The huge arm flipped itself around, and then the vast, skeletal fingers began to drag it along the ground. It moved surprisingly fast for such a huge thing with such an ungainly way of travelling. He soon lost sight of it as it dragged itself into a narrow valley. He could have followed after it, but in the close confines it would be easy to set a trap. Perhaps the arm itself might be able to grab him and his hawk.

Silver Fingers flew close to him, shouting out, "Let's go and see if we can capture one of those Haltans. We need some answers."

He nodded and followed after her.

* * *

The procession might have looked more august had it been able to march from the city instead of being ferried across the river. Still, Anzar thought that the force was impressive enough.

He could only hope it would be sufficient.

As they disembarked from the ferries and formed up on the Great East Road the group took on a more formidable appearance, more suitable for a Wyld Hunt.

The largest force were two hundred of the Zaranthi; the descendents of barbarians, warriors that swelled the Realm's forces at Greyfalls. Anzar was not entirely certain of them, but Kitono had assured him the Zaranthi were loyal and excellent fighters.

Next in number were a cavalry unit of 50 of the Nuri; with their red hair and dark skin. The wealthiest of Greyfalls' ethnic groups, they were well outfitted, with armour and sword, riding upon well bred horses.

Anzar's own force, his monks and the mercenaries, came next in numbers. The monks and other servants, properly attired and turned out looked formidable. His mercenaries, given a sort of cohesion by 

the failed battle on the road from Marita, had found matching tabards in which to dress, and they appeared much more professional than they had only days before.

Cloud Hands had come along, with her a group of warrior monks.

With them, scattered about, were several other Terrestrials, Dragon Blood visitors that had chosen to join the hunt.

There were also a curious group of mortal nobles from the city. As far as Anzar could tell they had joined the hunt to curry favour with the Scarlet Major Domo. The Major Domo, an older man named Bretegani Wild Grove, had joined the hunt for reasons that Anzar did not quite understand. Both Cloud Hands and Kitono had, apparently, tried to talk him out of it.

Anzar saw no real harm in it, though he supposed it would be unfortunate if the Empress' Major Domo were to be killed.

All together there were three hundred and twenty six members in the Hunt. Most of those combat ready.

He looked about, wondering if he would see Jade Dolphin and her flying creature, but there was no sign of her. Perhaps delivering him and his men to Greyfalls was the extent of her help in dealing with the Anathema which might be her daughter.

Cloud Hands stood nearby, within her chariot. A pair of monks held the bridles of the horses that would pull the vehicle.

"I think we are ready to go," he told her.

Cloud Hands smiled and nodded. "Yes. The Dragons Bless our undertaking."

He nodded, relieved at her words, and her presence. He was, in a way, leading the hunt, but he had already delegated some responsibility to those better suited to them. He truly wanted to succeed and was not about to let his own failings get in the way.

After bowing respectfully to Cloud Hands he turned towards the Zaranthi and gave their leader the signal to move forward. The Zaranthi tended to be squat, broad shouldered people, but Doggor Red Knuckles, the group's commander, was much taller than his brethren. Doggor nodded and then shouted at his men to start forward.

The leader of the Nuri, a thin, fragile looking woman named Bethyl Hisan, nodded when he turned towards her and then gave her riders the command to ride out. The Nuri would go forward as scouts, to ensure that the main body, most of them marching, did not lose the Anathema riders.

The rest of the force, monks, mercenaries and Terrestrials, did not need the signal to move. Hemhan led Anzar's horse over to him. It was a beautiful horse, a Firemane, from the Blessed Isle, a gift to Anzar from Kitono. Anzar climbed upon the horse's back and sent it trotting forward.

He looked about at the people around him. He had to believe that this time he would succeed in seeing the two Anathema dead and the watch reclaimed.

* * *

Cathak Kohishi was a young man, a recent graduate of the Palace of the Tamed Storm. He had been sent to Greyfalls after his graduation; to keep him from embarrassing his family. Fair enough, he supposed, and there was plenty of opportunity in Greyfalls for a smart, young man who knew how to maintain appearances.

This Wyld Hunt was just another opportunity, he thought. Impress the right people and his family might even send for him; if not that, at least increase his monthly stipend.

He was an impressive young man, who looked like he might even be more impressive with a few more years of maturity. He was tall and well built, handsome as well, with long, fine blonde hair and blue eyes. His connection to the element of fire showed in his ruddy skin.

He wore red, jade plate and a pair of reaper daiklaives across his back. Currently without a horse, at least one that could keep up and carry him, he walked amongst the mercenaries of Ragara Anzar. He took an easy manner with them, joking and telling dirty stories.

It did not take him long to make some friends, as well as learning a few things about the mission they were on.

A Cathak already killed, two Anathema of unknown powers, a tiger. It all sounded dangerous. However, in danger was opportunity. And if he could help avenge the death of another Cathak… Well, the possibilities were growing.

It looked as if he had made a good choice in joining this hunt.

* * *

Memnon Grace guided her chariot after the majority of the force.

She wore loose robes of dark red silk. Her short hair was black. Her eyes were the colour of quartz and her skin looked like polished granite. She was not a pretty woman, not in the classical sense, but she was attractive, and she knew it.

On her left was a huge hammer of white jade, shot through with golden orichalum and trimmed in red jade. On her right was an old woman.

The hammer's name was Six Devil Magma Jet. The old woman's name was Rajan Soo and she was Grace's maid.

Grace tended to travel everywhere with both.

"Why not ride up with the Abbess Cloud Hands?" Rajan Soo asked, sniffing.

"She has not invited me," Grace told her.

"Why wait for an invitation? Roll up beside her and let her know you are here. You are helping with her Wyld Hunt."

"It is Ragara's Hunt I believe."

Rajan sniffed again. "Not with the way he is acting. And look at that Bertagani fellow, riding up beside the Vartabed, as if he were in somewhat her equal. Shocking."

Grace did not bother to say anything to that, knowing that the maid would not want to hear it. "Are you sure you really want to join me," she asked the old woman. "You could still remain behind."

"Don't be ridiculous child. Who would take care of you if I left?"

Grace smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Rajan Soo and Grace had known each other for nearly fifty years. As a young woman Rajan Soo had been Grace's nurse maid, then governess, lady's maid, and finally travelling companion. Far too old to be joining her on such a dangerous undertaking but she would not be deterred.

She might have ordered the old woman to remain behind, to even retire, to live out the rest of her life in the comfort in one of Grace's family's homes. She knew that the old woman would be desperately unhappy in such a situation, however.

So Grace hoped for the best.


	17. The Anger of the Sun

None of the travelling companions were in a good mood; girl, man and tiger were all on edge. None of them could quite put their concerns into words, why they were feeling unease and as a result were being short with one another. Heron caused Ivory to cry at one point with a cutting remark, made without thought as he forgot that, for all her maturity, she was still a child.

For nearly an hour they had been travelling in silence, but it was just not the fact they were not talking to each other, for there was not a lot of chance to engage in conversation while on the back of a galloping horse, but the atmosphere about them.

It was beginning to annoy Heron, and he was thinking about just stopping for the rest of the day. A good rest would probably do them all good, and he seemed to recall children got cranky when tired. He calculated the distance in his head, suspecting they could take the rest of the day to rest and still reach Metagalpa with perhaps a day to spare. It might be cutting it close, but if it helped soothe sore feelings it would be worth it.

It was about then that he noticed that Ivory was no longer riding close by.

He brought Dragon to a stop and turned to look back the way he had ridden.

Some distance back he saw Ivory, sitting astride her horse, Hu near her, none of them moving.

He cursed softly and swung Dragon around before sending the horse galloping back towards her. His desire to yell at her faded as he rode and by the time he reached her he had put aside his anger, or at least most of it.

She sat upon her horse, staring down at the watch. He was not surprised. She had become obsessed with it.

Or so it seemed to him.

"Ivory," he said, keeping his tone even, "we have a lot of distance yet to travel."

She looked up at him, and for a moment he thought she was going to start yelling at him, or crying again. Instead she simply said, "I don't understand it."

"You can't expect to understand everything."

"Why not?" she demanded.

It was on the tip of his tongue to answer that no one could, but he realised Ivory would not see it that way.

Damn kid was too smart for her own peace of mind.

"Well, you can't expect to know everything right now."

She frowned, then looked down at the watch. "It just seems important," she said, her tone an odd mixture of surliness and helplessness.

Heron did not answer. He waited until he could open his mouth without shouting, 'Of course it is important you idiot. People want it and were willing to pay a fortune for it. Are quite likely to kill for it.' Instead he calmly told her, "I know."

She looked at him again, and shook her head. "No, it's not that. There is more to it. I'm sure of it!"

He sighed, not wanting her to start crying again. Hu gave Heron what he could only assume was an Imploring look that seemed to say, 'please, don't make her cry again.'

"Okay, tell me how you know that."

She no longer looked like she was about to cry but instead look nervous. "I'm not sure," she told him.

That was a lie, he thought, and for a moment he thought to push harder, to find out the truth. Instead he reached into the pocket of his over robe and drew out a folded map. He sat easily upon Dragon's back and unfolded the map in front of him.

Ivory's mood had been growing worse over the last few days; maybe there was something to the watch.

They had been riding along the Great East Road, travelling fast. They were not too far from the place where they would turn North and follow an older road that would take them close to the flying mountain. He looked at that place on the map for several seconds, and then traced his finger down the road until he reached the position where he thought he was.

"Alright," he said and began folding the map up, "we'll leave the road here."

"What?" Ivory asked.

"We'll leave the road, head North by East. I think we can find a small trail that will take us the rest of the way."

"Why?"

Heron finished folding the map and returned it to the robes pocket. "I'm not really sure. A hunch maybe. Or maybe I'm just thinking that the turn off for what is the main road to Metagalpa would be a good place for someone to wait for us."

Ivory's eyes widened slightly, and she looked at the watch again. "I suppose so," she said, nodding.

Heron turned Dragon about and had him trot off the road into the wild scrub beside it.

Ivory followed a few seconds later.

The horses could not maintain the pace they had managed on the road, but they moved fast enough.

Ivory soon seemed to be in a better mood, which improved Heron's mood as well.

He had no idea if there had been any reason to turn off the road early, but he did not care. It had had the effect he had wanted.

* * *

Minbar sat upon his tall horse, watching as Ivory and Heron left the road. He spied upon them with a telescope made of blue and yellow jade. He took the artifact from his eye and turned to look at his three companions. Like him they rode upon tall horses, and they shared the same colouring of red-black curly hair and dark skin.

The four Nuri had been riding hard since their Wyld Hunt had left Greyfalls, scouting out ahead of the main force, watching for just an occurrence.

"They have left the road," he said, and all three of his companions nodded. "Koosha, send a message back to the Cathak and the Vartabed."

Koosha nodded and climbed down from her horse.

Minbar watched for a moment as she walked some distance away from them and then began to perform the Thaumaturgical ritual. He turned away from her and looked to the other two. "Once she is finished we will ride hard, cross country. We need to find another observation post to better watch from."

The two men nodded, ready to go.

He turned away from them and brought the telescope back to his eye. Already the two he had been sent to watch were moving out of his range of sight. While they had been on the mostly straight and level road it had been easy to keep track of them. Now that they moved into the more wild lands to the North of the road it grew more difficult.

* * *

Like a soft sigh the small air elemental came to Anzar, whispering its message from far off. He had been watching the Zaranthi construct the clever camouflage blinds when the elemental arrived. On hearing the news he called loudly for Doggor to come with him as he moved off to find Cloud Hands.

She was with the monks, performing martial arts training, obviously making certain that they were ready for battle. Fortunately Bethyl was nearby, so he was able to quickly convene a strategy meeting, and he told them what he had learned from the elemental. That their quarry had taken a different route than was expected.

Bethyl spread out a map for them and used small, glass beads to mark out positions. "We will have to move fast if we have any hope of catching up with them."

"Forced march, that won't leave us in good shape," Doggar said.

"The Dragons will bless us in this undertaking, your men will march fast and tireless," Cloud Hands said in a way that would not be argued with.

Doggar nodded respectfully.

"There won't be time to set up an ambush," Anzar said, and he resisted the urge to sigh. "Get all your men ready to move out."

"Yes sir," Bethyl said.

"Right away," Doggar told him.

He watched as both the military commanders rushed off to ready their troops. He was worried.

"It bothers you, I can tell."

Anzar turned towards Cloud Hands. The Immaculate stood nearby, her arms crossed and her hands in the sleeves of her robe.

"We lose an advantage, so yes…"

"No, I mean that things did not go as you were told to expect them too."

He opened his mouth to reply, but could not think of a reply.

"I know of them as well, those in the Order who provide information, as if their spy networks out-rival even the Thousand Scales. It is worrisome how much they know, but even more so when they are wrong and you have trusted their council."

Anzar nodded.

"Don't let it worry you," she said kindly. "The Anathema will vex even the wisest of council. It is another reason that they are so dangerous."

"Yes." He looked down at the map. "However, if we cannot intercept them then they will get away."

"Which is why we won't allow it to happen. If you'll excuse me, I must go and speak with Memnon Grace and see if she can aid me in the march."

"Yes, thank you."

She suddenly frowned. "Perhaps you could do me a service."

Anzar looked in the direction of her gaze. He saw Bretegani Wild Grove and several other men approaching.

"Please deal with Bretegani, explain to him what is about to happen. I, sadly, lack the patience to deal with him."

"Of course," Anzar said, and he strode towards the Scarlet Major Domo. Cloud Hands had helped restore his confidence and he would repay her be dealing with Bretegani.

* * *

Kohishi put aside his wine and grabbed up his swords as he saw Bethyl approaching. He had let the woman take him as a lover almost as soon as they had left Greyfalls. He had carefully played her, letting her think he was besotted with her. There was no great advantage in it, but it kept his skills sharp. And it had got him a horse.

"What news?" he asked her.

She reached up to draw him close and kissed him hard. When she broke the kiss she told him, "We set off immediately, our trap has turned into a chase."

"And the squaties?" he asked, referring to the Zaranthi.

"The Abbess will make them march quickly enough."

"Excellent," he said.

She smiled at him. "You will be by my side when we engage these Anathema," she said fiercely, and then she kissed him again, pressing her body against his. She was, he thought, a pleasant enough woman to spend time with. And her passion, with its fiery edge, pleased him.

That she was wealthy was a great benefit as well.

She broke the kiss and went to shout her Nuri into action.

Kohishi whistled tunelessly as he walked towards his horse.

* * *

Grace rushed towards her small camp. The Abbess had requested her aid, much to Grace's happiness. A chance to prove her worth to Cloud Hands, it was an opportunity and an honour. She needed to take care of things before she left, the packing of her chariot, finding someone to drive it. And then there was Rajan Soo.

As she approached the camp she saw the old woman sleeping with her back against a tree; in sleep the exhaustion she was suffering from showed clearly. Poor Rajan Soo, Grace thought, she deserved much better; feather beds and heated floors. But she was on a campaign, trying to keep up as if she were not the oldest mortal there.

Grace gently placed her hand on a bony shoulder, waking the old woman with a shake.

Rajan's eyes opened and almost immediately she hid the discomfort she was in. "Just resting my eyes a little bit," she said, and then began to get up.

Grace helped her stand and said, "We'll be leaving soon, we must follow the Anathema for they no longer come this way."

"Well then, let's get this camp packed up," Rajan said.

"I will be marching with Cloud Hands."

Rajan smiled. "Good. Show the woman your worth!" She then laughed and almost sounded young again.

"I'll find someone else to drive the chariot. You'll ride with them."

Rajan nodded and, to Grace's relief, said, "Sounds good to me."

For a moment Grace thought of suggesting that the old woman remain behind. What they were about to do was too dangerous and it only made sense. Rajan Soo would not see it that way. Grace smiled. "As you said, let's get everything packed up."

* * *

Ivory slowed her horse to a walk and then brought her to a halt beside Dragon. Heron sat upon the horse's back, shading his eyes against the late afternoon sun with his hand.

"What's happening?" Ivory asked.

"We're being watched," he told her.

"Where?" Ivory stood in her stirrups and looked around.

"Too far for you to see unaided." He reached into his robe's pocket and brought forth a map.

Ivory looked down at the map, still standing in her stirrups.

"The road I was planning on taking," he said to her.

"What?"

"An ambush."

Ivory sat down heavily on her horse. "Oh."

Heron turned to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Ivory said, not wanting to speak.

He reached out and grabbed her by her arm. "What?" he demanded.

Hu growled.

Heron did not take his gaze nor his hand from Ivory. "Tell me."

Ivory closed her eyes and said, "I think I dreamed it."

"What?" He let go of her arm.

"Sometimes I can see the future in my dreams," she told him.

"And you saw us being attacked?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

Ivory opened her eyes and shook her head. "It's confusing, and I've been having another dream, and they've been bleeding together, and I just don't know anymore." She thought she might start crying and bit her lip, telling herself she would not give into tears again.

"Is that why you've been crying out in your sleep?"

Ivory was surprised by the question. She had thought she had been hiding it so well. "Yes," she said.

"Would have been useful to know earlier," he told her and folded the map up. "I thought you were just being a brat recently."

"I'm not a brat!" Ivory snapped, thoughts of crying forgotten in anger.

"We'll have to move fast. They saw us leave the road. If they have a way to send a message then the others, if there are others, might be trying to intercept us. As long as we can get ahead of them I don't think they have any chance of catching up with us."

Heron looked at her for several seconds, and then said, "What other secrets are you hiding from me?"

"Have you told me everything about yourself?" Ivory snapped, and regretted it immediately for it made her sound petulant, and she was probably petulant which was even worse.

Heron laughed and nodded. "Fair enough Golden Eyes." He put his heels gently to Dragon's side and the stallion leapt forward.

Ivory flicked Humming Bird's reigns and sent the horse galloping after Heron and his mount. She was not giving too much thought to riding, but to her dreams, and the watch.

It was not the first time she had had a dream that only made sense afterwards. It made her gift less than useful at times, but she was used to that. Another thought had occurred to her, however, and that was what the Watch had been showing her. In its strange, inner movements had been a pattern. She had not recognised it until now. Like her dream.

Maybe that was why she had been in such a foul mood. Both dream and watch were showing her the same thing, but she could not recognize it.

Of course that meant the watch could show the future.

She supposed.

So what did that mean when she and Heron got to their destination?

Did it have to mean anything? Was she just putting her confused dreams on the confusing workings of the watch?

"Ivory!" Heron called.

She looked up and saw that Heron had gotten some distance in front of her. She did her best to turn her thoughts away from the watch and instead concentrate on riding as fast as she might.

* * *

Anzar was impressed with the speed that they had made. He was also certain that they would not arrive in time. He had sent the Nuri riding ahead, in hopes that they might catch up to the Anathema, or, he hoped, get ahead of them so that they might turn and ride back, catching the Anathema between themselves and the Zaranthi.

* * *

Grace marched beside one of the two columns of Zaranthi. In a deep, carrying voice she called out a marching cadence to which the squat soldiers marched. In the hours since they had set out they had all covered a great distance, very nearly running all the way, even weighed down by armour and weapons.

But such was the power of the Dragons, she thought.

* * *

Amongst the Nuri, close to Bethyl, Kohishi rode fast along the old trail. The riders' passage rose a cloud of dust, something that would certainly give them away if it were seen. However, such was their need for haste that it was a chance they felt they needed to take.

He looked around at the other riders. All of them were scared, some hiding it better than others. He smiled slightly, wondering how many would die in helping him take down at least one of the Anathema.

* * *

Heron knew they were too late to escape without a fight. He could see the fast moving column of marching men, moving towards the low lying point where the paths would cross. He and Ivory were riding down a steep hill with no easy escape; to one side was a drop into a river and to the other a drop almost right into the middle of the oncoming force.

"We're going to have to run, hope we can beat them onto the trail," he said, looking over his shoulder at Ivory.

Ivory was off her horse, standing on the edge of the path, staring down at the army. "Ivory," he called out, fearing the girl was gripped by fear.

She lifted her hands and spoke several words that were like stones dropped into a pond.

Heron watched as she lifted her arms into the air, with her hands tracing out patterns, leaving behind trails of gold in the air.

She clapped her hands together.

Shifting his gaze, Heron looked towards the approaching army. Near the center of the fast moving column a spear of molten rock shot up into the air, hurling soldiers as if they were windblown seeds. Then the spear flexed, bending, sweeping out to scythe through another group of men.

And there were more of the tentacles of molten rock; eight in all. They flailed around; their heavy, hot weight crushing and burning soldiers, breaking the formation.

What had once been an ordered column of soldiers was now a panicked mass of dead, dying and soon be dead individuals.

He looked back at Ivory. She was standing there, gazing down at what had happened.

She looked frightened.

"Ivory!" he yelled.

She looked towards him, her eyes wide. She blinked, and then shook herself.

"Get on your horse, we have to move."

"Yes," Ivory said, and ran to do as he said.

They galloped down to the trail, towards where the two trails joined. All they had to do was get there and set off along the ancient road that would take them to Metagalpa. With the men below in complete disarray Heron was pretty certain that they would make it.

Then, charging through the carnage and the confusion, came a chariot, followed by a group of about twenty soldiers, all running full tilt towards where the trail and the old road met. Heron had to give the charioteer credit; to control the horses in all that panic, and to rally men to follow through it, that was impressive. The chariot and the running men would reach the intersection first.

Heron did not bother with his flame wands and flame pieces. He took his hands from Dragon's reigns and pulled his golden, plasma-tongue repeaters from the air. "We're going to have to fight," he yelled to Ivory, and hoped she was ready.

Below he saw the chariot reach the intersection, the charioteer lashing at the horses, turning them sharply. The heavy chariot almost flipped over, but the driver threw her weight to the side and the chariot righted itself.

She was good, Heron thought, seeing the woman clearly. Her dark, red robes flapped around her, the flash of jade armour revealed. One hand on the chariot's reigns, in her other hand was a huge hammer of white jade.

Beside the Terrestrial, crouching low in the chariot, was an old woman.

She looked harmless.

Heron was not buying it. He was not going to make the mistake of ignoring a venerable, old Sifu.

His first two shots were straight at the old woman.

She did not dodge them. She did not send the flaming balls of plasma flying off with a carless flick of a fan. She did look terrified a moment before she went up in flames.

Heron was a little surprised.

The charioteer screamed and took her hand from the reigns, shifting both hands to the hammer's haft as she leapt from the chariot and onto the horses' backs. Without a driver and with flames burning so close, the horse panicked, pulling in opposite directions.

The Terrestrial seemed not to notice, standing perfectly balanced upon one of the horse's back, shifting her weight to steady her footing even as she swung the hammer around her head.

Heron shifted his attention away from the pyre that had once been an old woman just in time to lean back, the back of his head touching Dragon's croup, and avoid a sweep of that hammer.

He lifted the pistol in his right hand and shot the woman in the face.

Dragon leaned over and tore a chunk of flesh from the hind quarters of one of the other horses.

Fire, pain, the woman's violent motions, the chariot lost all semblance of control and flipped over, horses, chariot and woman going down the steep fall towards the river below.

Then the terrestrial slammed her hammer into the dirt and brought herself to a halt in a spray of rock and earth. She set her feet upon the rock face and then kicked off, launching herself back towards Heron. Her hair had burnt away, and her face was red and her skin blistered, but she still looked like she wanted to fight.

Heron had Dragon spin to his right, stepping sharply, nearly tripping, to avoid the fall of that hammer. As the horse performed its dance the rider lifted the pistol in his left hand and shot the Terrestrial in the face again.

* * *

Ivory kept riding as the chariot flipped into the air, her attention on the group of soldiers forming up on the road below. There were only about twenty of them, squat, heavy people, most armed with large axes. She knew they were called the Zaranthi for she had read about them in a book about Greyfalls.

Anchoring their line was a man who looked like the Zaranthi, but for his great height.

Ivory drew both her blades, the short daiklaives catching the light of the setting sun, as Humming Bird galloped towards the soldiers. She found herself amongst them before she really had time to think about what she was doing.

The tall man's axe cut towards her.

Her swords cut around her, blocking axe blade, turning it; her caste mark began to shine as she called upon her charms.

Hu bounded into the melee with abandon. He ripped the throat out of one of the Zaranthi, snapped another's neck with a bat of his paw and then leapt upon the tallest of the Zaranthi.

Ivory stabbed down with one of her swords, the tip piercing deep into the body of a man.

It was probably too much for them. They had been attacked by sorcery--the magma kraken was still lashing away at the few survivors--by what they thought were demons, by a huge tiger.

As Hu tore the throat from their leader most of them broke and fled.

* * *

"You killed Rajan Soo," the Terrestrial said, spitting the words at him as she drove the head of her hammer at him like a spear.

Heron ducked low in the saddle to avoid the hammer, and then swung under Dragon to avoid the weapon as she pulled it back.

The woman was angry, Heron thought as he pulled himself back onto Dragon's back. Not angry enough to do anything stupid, but angry enough that she was pretty focused on wanting him dead. In an off handed way he wondered who the old woman had been as he shot the Terrestrial in the face yet again.

The woman might have the strength and endurance of stone, he thought, but even stone could be melted.

Badly burnt, she stumbled back, holding her hammer in one hand, her other hand held protectively against her eyes.

Tapping Dragon's flanks with his heels sent the horse leaping forward. Dragon landed just in front of the woman, the muscles of his front legs tensing, then expanding, driving himself up and around. Heron lashed out with his foot as the horse spun, kicking the hammer's head hard enough to knock it up. Dragon's rear, steel shod hooves kicked hard into her chest.

The Terrestrial was launched back and out into the air above the river and the wreckage of the chariot.

Dragon landed lightly, facing down hill again. Heron whistled and the horse galloped down to where the soldiers were fleeing from Hu and Ivory.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he approached.

Ivory nodded. She looked scared.

Hu stood nearby, his muzzle wet and red with blood.

"Let's get out of here."

He turned Dragon and headed towards the river. Ivory brought Humming Bird around and followed. Hu licked some of the blood from his muzzle and then bounded after them.

They had forded the river when they heard noise from behind them.

A chariot, riders, and a number of running monks had circled wide around the magma kraken and were now charging towards them.

"They're too far away," Heron said. "They'll never get the chariot up the incline. Let's go."

They began to climb the far bank, pushing the horses to move quickly. There path was narrow, barely wide enough for the horses. No way to get a chariot up it easily. The other horses would be slower than Dragon and Humming Bird, Heron was certain of that. Even from the distance he recognised the fatigue in the mounts of his enemy. And the runners were already falling behind.

All they needed to do was crest this hill and then they would be safe.

At least from anyone following them.

He was not willing to bet that there were no more threats ahead.

They had almost reached the top when it happened.

Something huge and white, that was all Heron could be certain of, passed overhead, like a thunderstorm, pushing a mass of air in front of it.

The path shook and crumbled under the horses' hooves and suddenly they were sliding down the hill in a wave of dirt and stone. Heron kept Dragon up on his feet, running across the top of sliding rocks and the few pieces of solid terrain. Ivory was not so skilled.

He watched as a stone the size of a table took Humming Bird's legs out from under her, heard the scream of pain that told him the horse would not be getting up. Ivory was thrown from her saddle, plunging head first towards sharp and broken rocks.

He urged Dragon forward, suddenly knowing how to make the horse out race the wind, but before he could act Ivory disappeared in a cloud of golden feathered birds. They rose up, bright in the twilight, motes of sunlight seeming to cascade from them.

"Go," he shouted at the birds which wheeled overhead even as he still rode Dragon down the avalanche.

The flock seemed to hesitate, then wheeled and flew off, disappearing over the crest of the hill.

There was a flash of red gold as Hu went after the birds, disappearing into the shadows.

That was Ivory safe enough Heron thought, and he looked down at the bottom of the hill and the river where the pursuers had gathered. Very well, he thought, no time for words, now it was time for fighting. Plasma tongue repeaters in his hands he charged towards them. Dragon screamed in anger and several of the horses below shied under their riders.

In the chariot stood a woman, head shaved, her robes blown by winds around her, the air around her filled with blue arcs of lighting. In her hands, between her fingers, were needles of blue jade.

She screamed a wordless cry of defiance and hurled the needles.

Heron fired directly into the cloud of weapons, blowing them off course. Dragon leapt, sailing over the horses and the chariot, landing on the far river bank, amongst the monks that had been following on foot.

Dragon screamed, Heron fired, monks died in flames.

He sat upon his horse's back, staring at the Terrestrial monk, the riders, Anzar Ragara, and the surviving lay monks.

For a moment he had their complete attention. "No one else has to die," Heron said, and he smiled, knowing that he looked his prettiest. It was a smile that had won him allies and friends in the past.

Some of the riders looked doubtful, even some of the monks, but Anzar and the other Terrestrial were not buying it.

"Do not listen to the words of the Anathema!" the woman yelled, and she leapt high from her chariot, speeding another wave of needles at Heron.

Heron kicked Dragon into a charge, rolling from the saddle as he did so. He landed in a crouch, his hands a blur of light as he reloaded the weapons, charging each of the alchemical rounds with essence.

He remained in the crouch for a heartbeat, as the needles sped towards him, as the riders turned their horses to charge him, as the remaining monks began to close in, as Anzar lifted his daiklaive and shouted for vengeance.

So much for a peaceful solution, he thought. Now they would realise the error they had made in hunting him like an animal.

Then he stood, his pistols weaving about him, the golden barrels with their red jade inlay flashing as he deflected each needle.

The air aspect came at him, fists crackling with lightning.

He spun to the side as she drove her fist into the ground where he had just stood. Heron kicked her in the side of the head, then turned, spinning the pistol in his right hand, using the butt to shatter the jaw of a nearby monk. Not far away Dragon slammed into the horse of another rider, knocking horse and rider down. Dragon screamed and the other horses shied back from him, some broke and ran.

The air aspect was getting to her feet, Anzar was charging him, and more monks were closing.

He shot the monks, each round exploding into a bonfire of flames and essence, catching more than one in the explosion.

Then Anzar was on him, his Daiklaive sweeping down. Heron crossed his empty pistols together and caught the blade. The other Terrestrial was back on her feet, another group of needles in his hands. He was going to have to do something about Anzar first.

Smiling Heron said, "Where's your Cathak friend Anzar? Hiding, or did she let herself get killed by a child?"

It was the right thing to say. Heron was usually good and finding people's weaknesses. In Anzar's case it was the likely guilt.

Heron's words made that guilt explode into unthinking anger.

Anzar lifted his sword and swung it around, waves like miniature tsunami appearing around him, pounding his horse.

Heron ducked around the horse, letting a spray of needles hit Anzar and his mount.

Anzar seemed unaware of the pain, and he brutally drove his stallion forward, after Heron.

Heron laughed, goading Anzar on, leading him, letting his rage driven swings cut down his own men.

It was the Dragon Bloods' own charm that he was using against them.

Perhaps if Anzar had not been blinded by anger he would have realised this. The woman did, but her shouts at Anzar to stop fell on deaf ears.

Heron let go of his pistols, banishing them as he ducked another sweep of Anzar's sword, the blade instead cutting through one of the remaining monks. He reached into his robes and pulled out the hilt of his essence sword. The blade sprang into being, catching the red jade of Anzar's daiklaive. For a moment they stood, locked together, blade to blade, Heron standing on the rocky river back, Anzar upon his panting, and blowing horse.

Then Dragon was there, lashing out at the other horse, putting the poor beast out of its misery.

As it fell Heron pushed Anzar's blade out of the way and then, with a cut from left to right, slashed Anzar across his chest.

Horse and rider hit the ground hard, neither moving.

"You're a monster," the air aspect shouted from where she stood.

Heron looked at her. She held another set of needles, or perhaps the same set, in her hands, but she did not throw them. No unthinking anger for her. He smiled at her. "I offered you a chance to let this end peacefully."

She was incensed, but not unthinking, and she made the needles disappear with a wave of her hands and then came after him.

There was no one else close enough to be hit by an errant blow, and she drove Heron hard with a series of punches and kicks coming off of impossibly high leaps. He countered, forcing her to abort many of her attacks, lest she make contact with his blade.

"I have seen many of your likes dead," she spat as she tried to kick him in the head.

"You have never seen the likes of me dead," Heron answered her, and his blade traced out a crescent of red across her cheek. "You have only killed the frightened and unsure, who were never given a chance to fully understand who they were and what they were capable of and who were alone." His blade sliced open her robes, cutting her across the shoulder. "Now you face a foe you cannot possibly hope to defeat. We know what we are." He kicked her across the shin. "We know what we are capable of." He punched her across the face with the hilt of his sword. "We are not alone!" he screamed into her face.

"I will not rest until I see you dead!" She screamed back. "I swear it by the Dragons!"

"Then let heaven witness and bind your oath!" he screamed as he sanctified the oath. "And may you know no rest!"

The woman stumbled back. It was obvious she did not know what had happened, but she had felt the power of it. Heron slashed her across her chest, cutting through clothing and flesh. He kicked her in the knee, shattering the bone. And, when Dragon came running, he swung his leg out as he mounted, letting the heel connect with her jaw, sending her sprawling back.

She was not dead, but Heron did not intend to kill her.

Not yet at least.

A few people tried to stop him.

He cut them down without slowing.

Then Dragon was leaping up the hill, cresting it before any of those below could think of firing arrows or hurling spears after him.

He rode along the old road, passing the remains of an ancient bridge, and went to find Ivory.


	18. Little Girl Lost

As the sun set the flock of golden birds wheeled out of the sky, gathering together into a tight grouping. A heartbeat later Ivory stood there, amongst a few, errant, golden feathers floating to the ground. She stumbled slightly, feeling a momentary wave of dizziness.

That had been really strange, she thought, and yet also quite amazing.

She reached down and patted herself, just to be certain she was all there. Cloak, armour, swords, clothing, watch; all the important things in their proper places. She had lost the saddlebags and pack with Humming Bird. Poor Humming Bird, she thought, and felt a little sick, remembering the horse's scream a moment before she had cast the spell to escape.

But now she had to go back, to help Heron. Go back and find Hu.

She turned to go and then stopped, presented with an unexpected sight.

It was not the huge, serpentine, white furred beast, though that was quite amazing. It was that her mother stood upon the beast's head, a black jade daiklaive in her hand.

"Mama," Ivory said softly.

She watched as her mother leapt from the creature's head, swinging her daiklaive around in a wide arc, a fine spray of mist forming about her, catching the last rays of the sun and sending forth scintillating rainbows. It was so beautiful and amazing that Ivory almost failed to recognise that her mother was trying to kill her.

She drew her blades, the short daiklaives whispering out from their sheaths, and she crossed them in front of her to catch her mother's descending blade.

The force of the blow knocked Ivory hard and painfully to her knees. Ivory swung her swords around, to her left, blocking her mother's follow up attack. She let the impact bowl her over, rolled to the side, and then on to her feet some distance away.

"Mother!" she cried.

Jade Dolphin did not answer the cry, but spun around, her formal robes whirling about her, her wooden sandals clicking on the stones, her blade driving towards Ivory.

Lifting her swords, letting essence guide them, Ivory parried her mother's attack, shunting most of the sword's force harmlessly to the side. Before she could counter, her mother was attacking again, driving Ivory back.

It was all Ivory could do to keep that dangerous, black weapon from her, for her mind, for the moment, was not really focused on the fight.

The dream she had been having. The one that had been causing her to wake, crying and frightened. That dream had been warning her of what was happening at that moment.

A fight between her and her mother.

A fight where her mother was trying to kill her.

And, she realised, a desperate, almost clumsy parry keeping the jade daiklaive from her, she did not know how it ended. She had woken each time before the dream had completely played out.

I don't want to have to kill my mother, Ivory offered up as a silent prayer.

I don't want to die, she thought, a silent plea.

Ivory caught her mother's sword in the cross of her own blades, she turned the jade weapon, twisted the blade in her right hand free, and then stabbed towards her mother's abdomen.

Jade Dolphin took a hand from her weapon's hilt and slammed a fist into Ivory's chin.

Ivory stumbled back, tasting blood in her mouth.

When her mother next attacked Ivory ducked under her mother's reach and slashed at her. Jade Dolphin brought her sword in quick enough to turn the blow, but the tip of one of the golden swords tore cloth and scratched across her abdomen.

Ivory wanted to cry out that she was sorry, but she had no time, her full attention given over to surviving.

Blade hit blade, Ivory felt each impact running up her arms to her shoulders. Her mother did not let up on her, she did not give any quarter. Ivory discovered depths to her own skills and abilities that she had not known of.

And it was not enough.

The black jade daiklaive, moving like water, slid through Ivory's guard, raising, cutting her from her left hip, curving around, ending at her cheek .

Her orichalcium breastplate and the cloak turned much of the blow, but it hit hard, and put a deep cut across along her jawbone.

Ivory stumbled back, the cut on her face stinging. Then her chest began to burn and a moment later she dropped to her knees, coughing up a gout of water. Before she could recover she felt the edge of a blade laid up against her throat.

Carefully she lifted her heat, looking up along the length of the daiklaive, into her mother's eyes.

They looked so cold.

"Just what did you say to Gazan that has him so worried?" Jade Dolphin asked.

Ivory's eyelids rapidly fluttered, and she swallowed, the action of her throat moving brought a tiny bit of pain as the razor edge of the sword cut her. "I told him that the assassination would fail, that he'd be betrayed by someone he trusted." She spoke so fast her words nearly lost all meaning as they ran together.

Jade Dolphin obviously had no difficulty understanding Ivory for she asked, "Who will be assassinated?"

"I don't know."

"I'm sure Gazan did not like that answer. And who is the one he trusts?"

"I, I don't know."

"And he would like that answer even less."

Her mother took the blade from Ivory's throat and turned her back on the kneeling girl. She started walking back towards the great, white beast. Ivory stared dumbly at her mother's back for several seconds. Then she got to her feet and called out, "Mother."

Jade Dolphin did not turn.

Ivory chased after her. "Mother!"

Perhaps Jade Dolphin slowed, perhaps she almost turned, but Ivory could not be certain. She was about to call out again, but the words died on her lips. She was a doll. Her step faltered. Dolls did not have mothers.

She stood there, encapsulated in her own light, darkness around her.

What had happened to her?

She looked up to see her mother standing upon the head of the great beast. Their gazes met.

"Don't sell your life cheaply," Jade Dolphin told her.

"I won't," was all Ivory could say. Her throat hurt too much for her to say anything else.

The beast flexed its legs and suddenly was raising into the air, so fast that air rushed into the place it had been, ruffling Ivory's long hair. She stood there for a few seconds, watching until the beast and her mother were gone from her sight.

I have to help Heron, she suddenly thought, for it was better than dwelling on what had just happened.

She turned and ran back the way she had come.

She had not been running long when she heard the sound of horses.

Many horses.

They came over a rise, carrying torches, the hooves of their mounts loud on the ground, steel shod hooves raising sparks on stone, their drawn weapons shining in the torch light.

Ivory suddenly wanted to cry.

It was all too much for her. Essence burned around her as her eyes grew flat and cold.

The first rider tried to trample her.

She side stepped, parried his sword, and then cut his saddle, and horse. The horse reared up in pain, the rider went over its hind quarters and hit the ground with a bone snapping crash. Ivory slashed the rearing horse across its rear leg, nearly severing it. The poor creature screamed and went over.

The other horses broke around the wounded, screaming animal, some panicking, giving Ivory some space.

She stepped forward, parried an axe, cut the rider from her horse, stabbed the woman through the throat. It was all so mechanical. It was like she was a clockwork figure in a meticulously laid out machine. She stepped to the side, thrust out her sword, it was almost pulled from her hands, she held tight. Another horse screamed.

Stepping atop a fallen animal she ducked the swing of a hammer and then stabbed upwards, the tips of her blades opening up the lower arm of her attacker. As the hammer fell from nerveless fingers she stepped forward, jammed her foot into the back of the man's knee, and then swung herself up into the saddle behind her attacker.

She kicked hard at the horse's flanks, sending it leaping forward, between two other riders. With the man in front of her as a shield, she cut and hacked at the other riders.

These people were not in her mother's league, she thought, feeling the heady scent of superiority wash over her.

She rolled from the horse a moment before someone, desperately, drove a sword, meant for her, into the horse. It screamed and bucked and took down another horse and rider as it fell.

Ivory was almost beyond thought, she was simply letting a certain sense of correctness drive her along. It was all just clockworks, every piece and part following predictable paths. All she had to do was follow her prescribed path and all would be well.

Then, as if something had fallen into gears, jamming and jarring, Ivory was jolted from her cool, calculating complacency.

He was coming at her, awash in his flaming anima, the fires burning his poor horse. Yet by apparent force of will he kept the horse running forward.

Ivory turned, stepping to the side, as she had when faced with other charges.

He did not try to force his mount to turn but instead threw himself from the saddle, drawing his reaper daiklaives as he did. Weapons cutting out a complex pattern of attacks and counters, he fell onto Ivory.

Ivory managed, barely, to block the attacks, but even as she did so she was knocked off her feet, falling onto her back.

The dragon blooded man landed on her hard, knees slamming into her chest, only the breastplate and the cloak keeping her from serious harm. The flames from his anima licked around her and singed her hair.

Ivory stabbed at him but he pushed off her, launching himself into the air, avoiding her strikes. Above her he spun his swords around so they pointed down, right at Ivory.

She rolled, flailing out with her swords.

He swung his blades to the side, tracking her as he fell.

Orichalcum and red jade rang out, Ivory barely keeping the swords' of her enemy away.

Ivory was still prone while her foe landed on his feet. He lifted one blade above his head, the other kept ready to defend. Ivory realised he was laughing, smiling.

It was horrible.

Before he could bring the raised blade down he was knocked away from her.

Screaming and growling Hu slammed into him, teeth sinking into shoulder, rear claws raking down his body. Then Hu sprung away from him, the smell of burnt fur in the air, and landed on a nearby horse. With a swipe of his paw he very nearly tore the head from the rider and then sprung from panicking horse back towards the terrestrial.

"Run!" he growled at Ivory.

Ivory got to her feet and ran. For a long time she had been surviving by doing what Hu told her. This did not seem like a good time to stop.

She went running up the old road, as fast as she could. It was easy to see where she was going, her anima burnt brightly. She ran until she felt her legs grow leaden, and her breath came in ragged, painful gulps. She began to slow.

Behind her she heard the sound of hooves.

She looked over her shoulder. Another group of cavalry was approaching her. A different group, she thought. Far below she could still see the bright fire of the Terrestrial's anima and knew that Hu still fought. He could not save her.

She looked around, hoping to see the golden sunlight of Heron's anima, but she did not.

Ivory turned and started running again.

She was so tired, and she had been doing so much. She felt all her wounds, especially the stinging cut on her face. The blood had trailed down her neck, and was cold and clammy against the skin of her shoulder.

She did not think she could fight any more.

Then ahead of her, a group of armoured figures.

How had they got in front of her? How was she going to fight them?

Ivory stopped, trapped, and called out, "Mama!"

The group in the black armour charged forward.

Crying and helpless Ivory stood ready, her short daiklaives held in front of her. I can't sell my life cheaply, was all she thought.

She was not attacked by the runners in armour. They split around her, charging down the road. As they passed Ivory's anima picked out strange patterns in some of the black armour and weapons. She turned dumbly and watched as the knights hit the approaching horses.

A Nuri woman whom led the cavalry charge, a lance held ready, was pulled from her horse, her head crushed by a heavy hammer. Like the knights were a breakwater, the charge smashed and was broken by the wall of black steel. Swords were lifted. Men and horses screamed. Blood flowed.

In moments the cavalry were all dead or fleeing.

It had happened so fast.

One of the knights, one that had stayed back and on the edge of the fighting, turned and looked towards Ivory. She spoke. "I'm so glad we made it in time."

It was Maddie's voice.

Ivory felt her legs grow weak, and she trembled where she stood.

"Ivory!" the woman with Maddie's voice said, and ran towards her. In the light of her anima Ivory saw the woman's face. It was Maddie, her skin so beautifully pale, a slight tinge of blue to her lips.

She's a ghost, Ivory thought, a moment before Maddie had grabbed her to keep her from falling.

"Ivory, are you alright?" She had knelt down and was holding Ivory up.

"You died," Ivory said stupidly.

"I know," Maddie said sadly. She was smiling.

"It was," and Ivory burst into fresh tears, "It was my fault!" she sobbed.

"No!" Maddie said so passionately, and she wrapped her armour clad arms around Ivory and pulled her tight against her steel breastplate. "It was not your fault! Don't ever say that again Ivory. Don't ever say that again!" She was crying as well.

Ivory hugged Maddie back. Though they both wore armour, and Ivory could feel her cloak slipping between them, as if to add another layer of insulation, though Maddie was dead, Ivory still felt a warmth in the embrace. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," Ivory whispered.

"I forgive you," Maddie told her, and hugged her tight.

Ivory was not sure how long she held onto Maddie, just happy to be with her again, but she began to hear people moving around her, and Maddie released her hold.

"Ivory," Maddie said, "we have to go. We came here to save you."

Ivory did not have to ask who the 'we' was. She was surrounded by other ghosts, all dressed in black. She did not think she wanted to go with them.

"Come on Ivory. We'll take you where it is safe." Maddie said. She was smiling, holding out her hand.

Ivory looked up in the sky. Her mother had not come.

Maddie had come for her.

But Maddie was dead.

And who better, she thought, to be a mother to a doll than a ghost?

Ivory reached out and took Maddie's hand.

Maddie smiled and stood. "Let's go," she said.

They started back up the road, climbing. The ghosts surrounded her, and Ivory felt a strange sense of cold and dread fall around her. Her anima seemed to be muted by it, and were it not for Maddie's hand holding hers she probably would have run. Or at least tried to.

* * *

Ahead, on the top of the hill, were the ruins of an ancient city. In the light of the stars she could see the broken walls and the shattered roofs of what had probably once been a major trade center. She wondered when it had been destroyed. She did not have to wonder how many people had died, for she could feel the presence of death.

The ghosts were leading her into a shadowland.

But she was with Maddie.

She trusted Maddie.

But did she trust these strange, quiet ghosts that Maddie travelled with.

Her steps began to falter, and Maddie pulled her along. She finally stopped, dragging her feet, forcing Maddie to stop.

The dead woman turned to look at her.

"Maddie, I have friends. They need me," Ivory told her.

Maddie did not say anything, just looked curiously at her.

"We have to go to mount Metagalpa."

"Why do you have to go there?" It was not Maddie who asked, but another ghost. She was an impressive looking woman, her black steel armour and weapons shimmered oddly in the muted light and Ivory thought she saw hints of faces within the dark steel.

"Hayden, we have to take her to her friends," Maddie said.

"Why do you have to go to Mount Metagalpa?" Hayden asked again, ignoring Maddie.

"I don't know," Ivory told her. "I just do." Ivory snapped at her, this strange ghost that made her fearful.

"We'll help you," Maddie said. "We're here to protect you." She smiled.

"Bring her, we have a long way to go," Hayden said.

Two large ghosts moved up behind Ivory.

"Hayden?" Maddie asked, her tone uncertain.

"I'm sorry Maddie," she said, her tone of voice apparently sincere, "but we're bringing her back to our Master."

The two ghosts behind her suddenly grasped Ivory, each one taking a sword away from her before she could act. How stupid of me, she thought, letting herself be angry rather than hopeless, as she began to fight against the hold. The ghosts tossed the golden weapons away, as if they did not like to touch them.

"What are you doing?" Maddie demanded of Hayden.

"I'm sorry," Hayden told her. "This is the way it has to be."

"You used me," Maddie said, sounding horrified.

"Yes, we did."

Maddie cursed loudly as she drew her blade and spun on the two ghosts that held Ivory.

Hayden moved fast, like a shadow thrown by a sudden light. She leapt forward, her sword of moaning steel sliding beneath Maddie's arm, catching her sword and disarming her. She then moved forward and used the flat of her blade to beat Maddie down.

"I am sorry," Hayden said, even as she hit Maddie, "but this has to be done. In time you will understand that it is the best for all."

Ivory stared open mouth at the violence, seeing that there was no anger in Hayden, that the ghost was just doing something that she felt necessary. That made it all so much more terrible, and Ivory was reminded of the cool, mechanical detachment she had felt during her earlier battle. If only she could feel that again.

Hayden stepped back from Maddie. "Let's go," she said, turning her back on Maddie.

Maddie looked up from the ground. She was crying. "I'm sorry," she said.

Ivory felt tears in her eyes and she nodded. "I know." Her mind was moving quickly, and a terrible idea had occurred to her. "I'm sorry too."

She broke free from the ghosts holding her, pushing back against them before throwing herself forward. If she had tried for her short daiklaives it was likely they would have stopped her, for they moved as if to keep her away from them. But she ignored her golden swords and instead dove forward and snapped up the sword that Maddie had held.

Maddie was staring at her.

Did Ivory see understanding in her eyes, perhaps even acceptance? Ivory prayed it was so. And then she drove the tip of the blade into the space between Maddie's neck and the armour. Around the sword motes of golden light danced.

Maddie gasped.

"I'm sorry," Ivory said again, crying.

The sword glowed and a diffuse light flowed up the steel, to the hilt, and into Ivory's hands.

Maddie faded, growing transparent, and then gone.

Ivory closed her eyes so she did not have to see it.

Screaming Ivory spun, her anima leaping into being around her once more. Bands of golden light, like scrolls, surrounded her, each band covered in old realm writing. She jumped forward, the sword sweeping through one of the ghosts that had grabbed her, cutting deep, ending the ghosts existence as Ivory drank up the spirit's very being.

Still screaming she snatched up one of her short daiklaives, turned, and killed the second ghost that had grabbed her. As he fell, his very essence now rushing through Ivory, she grabbed her second blade. Now properly armed she leapt forward, towards another of the ghosts.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," she screamed, blocking the fall of a hammer and then plunging a sword forward to kill another ghost, to absorb its essence and to end it permanently.

Everything was so unfair, she thought, slashing her blade across the abdomen of a ghost. Everyone was against her. As the ghost fell forward she slashed it across the throat and drank its being, growing stronger. She wanted them all to die. To die properly.

The ghosts moved around her, hampered by her short size, and the fact they seemed unwilling to kill her. It was easier to turn blows that were meant only to incapacitate. However, that was changing, by the time she had killed the sixth of them, eating the ghost in doing so, they seemed less interested in keeping her alive and more in not letting her kill them.

"How dare you," Hayden screamed at her, forcing Ivory back with a series of blows. "She stayed on because she loved you, and you killed her!"

Ivory was too angry to think clearly, but simply screamed, "It's your fault, I hate you." And leapt forward, knocking Hayden's blade aside and cutting her as she passed. She drove forward, spending more essence, and killed another ghost, absorbing its power, and then turned back on Hayden, cutting her again before killing another of the ghosts.

When it was over Ivory stood, surrounded by a blaze of golden sunlight, staring at Hayden, who knelt, weakened and wounded.

"You are a monster," Hayden gasped.

Ivory screamed, and killed her, and ate her being.

And then it was over.

She walked away from it, down the road some distance, and then sat on the road.

The anger that she had felt faded, leaving her feeling strangely liberated, as if some weight that had been on her for the past few months had gone.

She thought about Maddie.

She began to cry.

Heron had little trouble finding Ivory. Even if she had not been shining like a beacon in the darkness he could have followed the trail of destruction.

She sat on the road, her arms wrapped tightly around Hu.

* * *

He had heard her sobs from some distance off.

Feeling uncertain he stopped Dragon and waited. He did not think she was hurt, the fact that she was crying told him she was conscious and breathing. Heron was still somewhat uncomfortable around Ivory when she was most child-like.

Time passed and the blaze of sunlight around them dimmed. Ivory's crying grew softer and then finally stopped. A moment later she stood up. Heron watched as she walked towards him, her hand on Hu's back, her head lowered.

It was not until she stood nearly at his foot that she looked up at him. In the remaining light of their animas he saw the haunted eyes, rimmed red from crying, of a scared and sad little girl.

He had no idea what to say, so he simply said, "Let's go, we have a lot of distance to cover." He reached down towards her.

Ivory sniffed and reached up and took his hand. He pulled her up and onto Dragon's back, setting her in front of him. He waited for her to get settled and then gently pressed his heels against Dragon's flanks. Dragon started forward along the old road.

Not long after they passed suits of fallen armour and weapons. There was, Heron noted, no blood. He thought to ask Ivory about it, but she had ducked her head and pulled the cloak over herself. It was obvious that she did not want to talk about it.

There were the ruins of an ancient city which Heron chose to ride around. He did not like the feel of them.

On the other side of the hill he shared his magic with Dragon and the horse leapt forward, running like the wind.

* * *

Far above Dolphin stood upon the wide head of Tapachu, watching what happened far below. It had been fairly easy to follow the events, for the anima of those that fought had shone brightly.

"It appears," Tapachu's voice sounded in her head, "that your daughter has escaped."

"I noted," she said evenly.

"Aren't you even a little proud?"

"Not particularly," she said. "She did no more than I expected of any of my children."

Tapachu's laughter was not subtle as it caused his whole body to shake. "You are a liar."

Dolphin turned and walked across his skull and then sat down , reclining against his neck. "Fly me to the Blessed Isle as fast as you can, there is much to do and I have been gone over long."

Still laughing Tapachu flew up into a large, gentle loop, turning around before speeding off towards the west.

On his back Dolphin craned her neck, watching the far off spark of golden fire until it disappeared.


	19. In Heaven, On Earth, and

**In Heaven, On Earth, and a Whiff of Malpheus**

Cloud hands worked to set the badly broken legs of Grace, being certain to ensure that the bones were placed well. The burns were bad, but she did not think it would take Grace long to heal them. As she finished tying off the splints she shifted her attention to Anzar.

She had already treated him, for his wounds had been most grievous. She was not certain if he would survive, which was odd for one with the Dragons' Blood. Usually, she knew, any wound that did not kill could be healed from. But the deep cut across his chest seemed something graver than she had seen before. At least she had stopped the bleeding.

She got slowly to her feet, careful of her broken knee. It would heal soon enough, but for the moment it would slow her down.

So many wounded, Cloud Hands thought as she looked around, and so many more dead. What sort of monsters was she fighting?

There were calls from the river. Cloud Hands hobbled in that direction. Soon she saw the horses and their Nuri riders.

"Bethyl is dead," a rider cried out.

Cloud Hands was not interested in the death of the Nuri, her attention focused instead on a figure dragged on a litter behind one of the horses. She moved towards the litter and stood by it, looking down at the ravaged body of Kohishi.

His right arm, just above the elbow, was missing, the stump a ragged chunk of meat. Deep lacerations covered his chest, neck, and face. She was amazed he was not dead. She did not think that he would be so attractive when he healed.

"It was a terrible beast," one of the Nuri said, almost gibbering in his fear. "It came out of nowhere and killed…"

Cloud Hands held up her hand to silence the man and asked, "What about the other Anathema, the one with the appearance of a child?"

"She escaped," a small woman said, her eyes wide. "Ghosts came and saved her."

"Ghosts?"

"Dressed in black armour. They killed the lady Bethyl and took the child away. Terrible creatures, wailing…"

"Enough," Cloud Hands told her, seeing that the woman's words of ghosts were upsetting the others. "Bring the wounded to the fire, I will treat them. The rest of you get some rest."

They did as she said, laying the wounded around the fire. She treated Kohishi first, cleaning his wounds and properly bandaging them. When she was satisfied she had done everything she could for him she moved onto treating the others. She was not so concerned for them, but she treated them all well enough.

She was still working her way through the wounded Nuri when she heard a call of alarm. Cloud Hands straightened and looked towards the sound. From the south she could see bobbing lights approaching. As they got closer she recognized the lights as lanterns, carried by riders.

It was Bretegani Wild Grove and those that had come with him, come too late to die with those better than him, she thought.

He seemed unaware that he rode into the sad remnants of a Wyld Hunt for he called out, "What Ho! Are we camping for the night?"

It was only when he came fully into the fire light and saw the wounded, the faces of the defeated, that it dawned on him what must have happened.

"By the five dragons," he whispered.

Cloud Hands put aside her anger at the man and hobbled towards him. "Tell your servants to help make the wounded comfortable. We'll need hot meals as well as bandages and blankets."

Bretegani said nothing for a few seconds and then nodded. "Of course." And he started to give orders to his people.

Cloud Hands watched as servants tended the wounded, cooked the rich food that Bretegani had brought along, and were helpful all around. The Scarlet Major Domo and his companions were not much help, but they managed to avoid getting in anyone's way.

Cloud Hands went to again tend the wounded Dragon Blood and found Grace awake. She was in pain, but her eyes were clear.

"I believe that the bones will heal well and straight," Cloud Hands told her.

She swallowed and said, "Thank you."

Cloud Hands shook her head. "It is my duty."

"What will we do now. Do we continue the hunt?" even in her pain it was obvious the young woman was eager.

"Yes. We will set out as soon as we can. Perhaps tomorrow."

Grace nodded, but Cloud Hands could tell that she was somewhat uncertain. She placed a reassuring hand on Grace's shoulder and then got up, careful of her knee, and went to check the others.

It would be wise to return to Greyfalls, to heal up properly and to get some rest. However Cloud Hands felt a strange sense of dread when she contemplated putting off the hunt, even for a few days. No, there would be no rest for her, not until the hunt was done.

* * *

Blue Dreaming stood in the vast cathedral of the Lotus Dome, staring at an impossible tangle of threads. Around it Pattern Spiders moved about the snarl, disappearing at times as they traversed angles her mind was not prepared to accept. However the Pattern Spiders only occupied a small fraction her attention.

It was the tangle itself that held her focus, the threads that had been spun together by prodigious expenditures of essence. She recognized Anzar's thread, having long familiarity with it. It had almost come to an end.

Now Anzar's thread, and others belonging to Terrestrials, had become entwined, beyond the spiders' abilities to untangle. They would be, she thought, pulled along, to whatever fate had in store for them. And that fate was much more uncertain than it had been only a few days before.

Nervously she chewed on a knuckle of her right hand, tapping her foot as she tried to make sense of it. One of the small gods came by, alerted by the spiders, looked at the tangle for a time, then went off.

Blue continued to study the pattern, looking for the two strands of the Solars. They were difficult to find, sometimes twisting off into directions she could not see, other times describing what looked impossible.

It made her head hurt.

Finally she closed her eyes, tuned, and then opened her eyes, finding a place in the tapestry where there were no tangles, where everything was as it should be.

Such a sight always made her feel better.

The problem was that such a sight was becoming more and more an exception.

After a few minutes she turned back to face the tangle.

It looked as if it had grown even more snarled.

She was going to have to take a more direct hand in things.

* * *

Dragon ran as if he would race the wind. On his back Ivory found it within her to wonder at his speed. When she asked Heron about it, calling over the sound of their passage, he simply told her it was something he had been thinking about for some time. He did not seem willing to expand upon it during the ride and Ivory was more involved with feelings of grief and horror to press him upon it.

It was some hours later, when the moon was low in the sky, that Heron slowed Dragon and directed him to a sheltered copse not far from the ancient road.

They set up a quick camp, not doing too much. Heron gathered together a large pile of wood and then used one of his flame pieces to set it burning.

"Should we have a fire?" Ivory asked. Both their anima's had faded during the ride and the fire was so very bright.

"We left any followers long behind," he told her, "and we'll deal with anything else that might be attracted to the light."

Ivory nodded. She sat down across from the fire, staring into the flames. Her mind gave shape to the random flickers and she shivered at what she saw.

"What's wrong?" Heron asked.

Ivory shook her head. "I'm just tired. I'm going to sleep." She stood up and walked over to where Hu lay. Wrapping the much too large cloak around her, she settled against the big tiger.

She could tell Heron was watching her, but she did not want to speak about what was bothering her, did not think she could speak of it without starting to cry.

Ivory did not think she would fall asleep, but she was tired and young and in short order the sleep she was feigning to avoid Heron became real.

Ivory dreamt, not the nightmares, as she would have expected, but comforting dreams. A dream in which she felt warm and safe.

"Look at what you have done," a voice that Ivory recognised as Darengest's said. "I should not be surprised, but I would have expected you to wait at least a little while before selling your innocence, though you did sell it dearly."

Ivory thought to object, but the words died on her lips. How could she answer an accusation that rang so painfully with the truth.

"I can't have this you must realise," Darengest said, her tone cross. "Nor will I. You are to be, after all, my master work of this new age."

"How?" Ivory asked, her voice sounding so small in her ears.

"It is best you forget this."

"Forget it?"

"At least not recall it so clearly."

"I could never forget what I did," Ivory said.

"Are you so certain?" Darengest laughed.

"Yes," Ivory said, her tone hard.

"But do you really want to remember what happened?"

Ivory felt her resolve waver, and suddenly the sharp, clear, painful like broken glass memories seemed less so. It was as if someone had poured acid over an etching, burning away the detail, leaving only a vague impression of what had been there.

"Isn't that better?" the demon asked.

Ivory did not understand the question.

"Now sleep peacefully and dream no more this night."

Ivory did so.

* * *

Heron got a little rest, but not much. He planned to sleep on Dragon's back later, when they started moving again. Mostly, as he sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, snapping branches from it and feeding them into the fire, he thought. His thoughts were a little disorganized, for they kept coming around to the Terrestrials he had fought, and the one he had cursed to chase him.

He was not sure why he did it.

He hated being hunted.

Maybe it was because he was the one in control. The Terrestrial would hunt him, because she had no choice. She would always be somewhere behind him. If he stopped she would catch up. And then he would kill her.

And that was it, he thought, as the sky lightened with the coming dawn, he was going to kill her. He had taken away her choice in the matter. She had no option but to try to kill him. There could be no treaty or peace between them now.

"Maybe," he said softly, tossing into the fire a worried mess of broken wood and twisted bark that had been a whole branch not so long ago, "I am something of a monster."

He stood up and walked across to where he had put his gear, pulling aside the blanket he has tossed over it to keep the dew off. Ivory had lost most her luggage with her horse, but he supposed he had enough of the basics to keep them going until they reached the mountain. With the speed that Dragon was now capable of, that he was now capable of making Dragon travel, he thought they would reach the Mountain a few days sooner than he had planned. Perhaps they would take an easier pace. Resting for the whole night instead of riding far into the darkness.

From his saddlebags he took some rice, a bit of dried meat, dried vegetables, tea and his basic cooking utensils. After getting some water from the nearby stream he set upon making breakfast.

Ivory woke not long after. She went off into the trees, the cloak wrapped around her. When she came back a few minutes later she looked awake, fresh, and, in some way he could not identify immediately, better. Then he realised the haunted look he had seen on her face the night before was gone.

He handed her a tin cup that contained tea and asked the question he had been afraid to the night before. "How are you?"

She took a drink the tea, made a face, as if she found it too bitter, and then said, "I don't know."

Well, Heron thought, and he took a drink of tea, that is better than her bursting into tears.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, with all the care of a man reaching into a nest of bees.

Ivory said nothing for a time, just drank her tea. "I saw my mother last night," she finally said.

Heron had been watching the small pot where the rice was cooking. He used a branch to shift it into a cooler part of the fire before saying, "Well, that was unexpected."

Ivory nodded.

"How did that go?"

"She didn't kill me, I didn't kill her," she said.

Heron had no trouble recognising the bitterness in the girl's tone. "I suppose that all things considered, that's pretty good."

Ivory looked up at him, perhaps not certain if he was trying to make a joke out of it. She looked down at the ground and said, "She told me that she can't be my mother any more. It's not fair. She's 'posed to love me." She wiped at her nose with the back of a sleeve.

Heron wished he could just end the conversation there, but he had been the one who had started it. "When you grow up, you have to make some really hard choices," he told her as he shifted the rice pot again and hoped that she did not think his explanation was as lacking as he did. "And sometimes children can't really understand them. I suppose you don't want to hear that you'll understand it when you grow up," why did she just flinch, he wondered, "but you probably will.

"So," he said, choosing his words carefully, "I think your mother still loves you, it's just become, complicated."

"It shouldn't," was all Ivory said, and sniffed.

Well, at least she is not bawling, which, Heron thought, was pretty good.

He divided up the rice, the vegetables and the meat onto two plates, giving himself more. Ivory did not complain, and only ate about half of what was there.

"Why couldn't she have helped me," Ivory asked bitterly.

Heron sighed. "I don't know." He decided not to again suggest Ivory might understand it when she was older.

Ivory sulked, wrapped her arms around her legs and stared into the fire.

Heron supposed he should try to say something to her, but sulking, the girl was easier to deal with.

He finished his meal and put his empty bowl aside. "Did you need her help?" he asked her.

Ivory looked up at him, her eyes red and sniffed. She seemed confused. "I'm not sure," she said.

"Maybe it was a learning experience."

Ivory stared at him for several seconds and then said, "You're stupid."

"I've been told that."

Ivory gathered up the empty bowls and went off to the nearby stream. Heron watched her, but said nothing. He looked towards Hu but the Tiger was watching the girl. No answers there, not that he had expected any from the animal.

When she returned she put the bowls down and then said. "I saw Maddie last night."

Heron did not ask who Maddie was, for it was obvious that Ivory expected him to know. He recalled the woman who had been killed at Vinleau. Maddie Briar. "You met her ghost he said," and then, remembering the empty and damaged suits of armour he had passed, added, "and she was with others."

Ivory nodded. "She saved me, from riders, her and the others. Then she took me with them, telling me she was going to help me." She paused and bit at her lower lip. "The other ghosts wanted to capture me."

"Why?" Heron asked, curiosity overcoming sensitivity.

"I don't know. They just did. They wanted to take me to their master."

"Who?"

"I don't know," Ivory snapped.

Heron took a deep breath and then said, "I'm sorry. What happened?"

Ivory did not say anything for a few seconds, then said, "Maddie tried to stop them." She paused, looking confused. "They killed her," she said after a few seconds. "They killed her when she fought them, to save me." She paused again, tears starting to run down her cheeks. "I couldn't do anything to save her."

Heron, against his better judgement, put an arm around Ivory in a gesture of comfort. She leaned into him, buried her face in his side, and began to cry. He awkwardly patted her on the back, saying almost meaningless reassurances, and felt his shirt grow wet from her tears and snot. Heron decided that if he and Ivory were going to continue to travel together he was going to hire a nanny to take care of her.

However he did not say any of that aloud.

"Maddie helped me, so I could fight them. She saved me."

"You must be very important to her."

Ivory sniffed loudly and said nothing.

"And ghosts are not that easy to destroy. She might be back. They might all be back," he said, trying not to be too pessimistic but wanting to be sure Ivory understood the danger.

"Maybe," she said, but she sounded doubtful.

Still, the small offer of hope helped a little, for she let go of him and began to wipe at her face. Heron took a handkerchief from his coat and handed it to her. Ivory wiped her face and then blew her nose. When she offered the handkerchief back her waved it off and told her to keep it. Children, he decided, tended towards the grubby. Ivory was probably better than most, he supposed.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked her.

She nodded. "A little."

"Good. Now, tell me about this ability to dream the future."

"What?" she asked, the picture of innocence.

"Don't try to bluff me. A lot of things happened yesterday, but I did not forget what you said. Now tell me."

Ivory frowned, then pouted, and when neither of those worked she sighed. "There's not much ta say. Sometimes I have dreams of the future. Sometimes they're clear and sometimes they're all metaphor," she said the last word carefully. "And sometimes I just speak it."

Heron considered what she said. "So you can't control it? It just comes when it does?"

She nodded.

He sat back and thought about it. "And the watch does something similar?"

"I think so."

"Tell me, this Gazan who locked you up; it was because of this gift, wasn't it."

Ivory frowned, but nodded.

"What did you say to him?"

"My mother wanted to know that," she answered, her tone petulant.

"I suppose so. So do I."

"I told him that the assassination would fail and he would be betrayed by one he trusted, and," she added, sounding exasperated, "before you ask I don't know who is gonna to be assassinated or who the betrayer is."

"I suppose Gazan was not happy to hear that. Is he likely to come after you?"

Ivory shrugged her shoulders. "He hasn't yet."

"He probably will if he hears about you," Heron told her, "And let's face it Golden Eyes, you're pretty damn distinctive. So as long as I'm with you, I'm a target as well."

Ivory's eyes widened. "You're not gonna leave me?"

He shook his head. "No, but from now on, no secrets, at least not anything so important as your ability to see the future and this Gazan person. Promise?"

Ivory nodded and said, "Promise."

Heron looked at her closely. He was almost certain that there was something she was not being completely truthful about, but he could not be certain. The kid might be a better bluffer than he had thought. Or maybe it was just him.

"Now what do we do?" Ivory asked him.

Heron realised he had been silent for several seconds. "We continue on, find out what is happening at that mountain."

Ivory nodded.

"Can you get anything out of the watch?"

Ivory reached for the small pack and from it she removed the watch. It unfolded in her hands, the workings within seeming more complex than Heron could recall.

"It's changed again," Ivory said. She sounded angry. "It keeps changing, just when I think I understand it."

Heron looked at her, not saying anything for a time. He then asked, "It predicted that ambush, didn't it?"

Ivory nodded. "The dream and the watch, they were so close, but I couldn't see it. But it's changed," she nearly yelled.

For a moment Heron thought that Ivory might hurl the watch to the ground, but then the anger seemed to melt away and she simply caused the workings to collapse back into the casing and snapped it closed. "I'll figure you out," she said softly, angrily, to the watch. Then she dropped it amongst her things, got up, and stomped off.

Hu got to his feet and followed after.

Heron watched them go, deciding to let Ivory have her time alone. He knelt down and picked up the watch, lifting it by its chain.

It spun in front of his eyes, the morning light reflecting off of its golden case. "Maybe you are just a clever thing, made to confound, but if there is something within you that thinks I would be careful. Children can be cruel, and that one is smart enough to likely make you suffer."

He carefully placed the watch down and then went to make ready for their journey.


	20. Gathering at the Mountain

Temal searched the area around the mountain, hunting the catapult arm and its zombie attendants. In the days that had followed the attempt to destroy the catapult, and their learning what they faced, the catapult had remained hidden. It was still out there, for more and more zombies, their bodies broken from their journey up to the mountain, were found every day.

However the catapult remained unseen. The strange, animate arm could easily hide itself in the rough terrain around the mountain. Likely it was only coming out at night, apparently it or its crew were unhindered by the darkness.

There were dangers in searching for it. One hawkrider and her mount had already disappeared.

Temal sent Silk Feathers into a dive, speeding towards the ground, pulling up to skim through a deep ravine. His rapid pass did not let him see much, but there was evidence that something had been there. He had seen the remains of fires and bits of detritus.

It had looked old.

He considered making another pass through the ravine, at a slower speed, but he did not think he would find anything.

And he did not wish to put Silk Feathers into any danger.

Instead he climbed high, far above any threats, and from that perspective he searched out the ground, hoping to see something. Anything that might let him know more of the threat to his home.

There was nothing. Just the familiar terrain that he had seen, staring out over the edge of the mountain since he had been old enough to walk, and more recently that he had flown over. It all looked as it always had.

And nothing was the same.

* * *

Gazan's office was sparse, a low table and a silk carpet, woven with bright threads. He knelt at the table, his brush flashing across the paper, precise calligraphy covering the white field. He did not look up when the sliding door was pushed open but instead finished the sentence he was working on.

After placing the brush aside he took up a handful of powdered mica and sprinkled it across the paper to hasten the ink's drying. That done he finally looked up.

Standing on the threshold of his office was a tall woman, dressed in a formal kimono that she wore in a most informal way. She had dirty blonde hair, cropped short to her head, her eyes were a dark, dark brown. She was smiling, the action causing the tattoos on her strong face to distort.

Her name was Iselsi Shibat, not that she used her family name much. She was a member of the Left Guard.

"I have," she said once he looked up, "a message from Tolsay."

Gazan nodded.

She entered the room and dropped gracefully to kneel in front of the table. "There is word from Greyfalls, of the Abbess Cloud Hands leading out a Wyld Hunt in the company of Ragara Anzar, against a pair of Anathema. One of the Anathema may be a child, red hair, gold eyes."

Gazan demeanour changed slightly. It became eager as he learned forward. "Who is Ragara Anzar?"

She smiled. "Mostly unremarkable son of the main family line. He works for the immaculate order, for the office of the Mouth of Peace, though is not a monk himself."

"The Mouth of Peace?"

"Unlikely that she is involved in the matter of the child."

Gazan nodded. "What is she involved in through this Ragara?"

"Not sure. I've looked over the records we have on his work. Not many patterns. If you want my opinion, he is not a problem. Just happened to stumble upon the girl."

"Where is Tolsay?"

"On his way to Greyfalls. Official Business." She smiled

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And Jade Dolphin has returned to her home."

"Do we have any idea where she may have been?"

Shibat shook her head.

"Very well," he picked up his brush and rolled part of the paper scroll up, giving himself a new, clean section of paper. "Bring me any messages that Tolsay sends, and I want you to double the guard on the Regent."

"You expect an attempt on his life?" she asked as she stood.

"Not really, but I would like it if people thought I did."

* * *

Faded Maiden looked out towards the mountain lit up by the setting sun. They were close and would arrive soon. She looked over her shoulder to where the wagons were being made ready to move. Soon, all of it would happen soon. In a short time the people of the One Hundred Kingdoms would come to truly appreciate the power of her master.

Her feeling of elation faded some as her gaze drifted farther from the wagons, to where Courtesan stood.

She could not fault her fellow Death Knight's performance over the journey. She had worked just as hard as anyone else to ensure their success, and more than once it had been her bow that had cleared some threat or another from their path. And yet Faded Maiden did not think that Courtesan cared.

She acted out of fear, not of love of their master.

Faded Maiden could not forgive such a thing.

However it was not her place to deal with Courtesan.

At least not yet.

She watched Courtesan for several minutes, as the other Death Knight put arrow to bow and peppered a rock face with shot after shot. If only, Faded Maiden thought sadly, the young woman would put such dedication to serving their master.

Faded Maiden turned away from her and walked to the wagons. "Make ready to go," she told one of the drovers. "As soon as the sun has set I want to make best speed. I want to arrive at the mountain tonight if at all possible."

The man bowed low and said, "Yes my lady."

Tonight or the next night they would reach the mountain, and then the most important part of their master's plan would begin.

She was nearly trembling with excitement as she thought about it.

* * *

Under Heron's charms Dragon outraced the wind.

Whereas before they had ridden all day and into the night, pushing their tireless mounts to cover the most distance, now they rode only when the sun was in the sky, stopping before dusk and starting only after the sun had properly risen.

And they made better time than they had had before.

It was the second night since they had fought the Wyld Hunt. They had stopped in what had probably once been a small keep but was now a ruin. The area around and within the ruin was clear, there was a small well, and the remains of a fire, several weeks old by the look of it; it suggested that the place had been used as a rest stop before.

Heron and Ivory worked together to set up camp and had everything done in short order. Hu dragged a buck out of the woods, dropping the carcass near the fire. Heron cut a few steaks from the deer and then left the rest to Hu.

The sun was still in the sky as they sat down to eat their dinner. When finished Heron put aside his plate, wiped his hands clean, and then moved away from the fire to clean his flame pieces and fire wands. Naomi cleaned up and then went to practice with her swords.

When Heron finished with his weapons he returned to the fire and in the fading light of the setting sun he watched Ivory.

Ivory, aware of Heron's scrutiny, increased her efforts, wanting to impress him. She worked on an overhead parry using both swords, one to support the other. She thought that such a parry might serve her well against a stronger, taller opponent--which was almost anyone she might fight.

When the sun finally set, and darkness rushed in, driven back by the light of the fire, Ivory lowered her swords. She was breathing hard, and her arms ached. After sheathing her two weapons she returned to camp and laid out a blanket, not too close to the fire, to sit upon.

"What was that move you were practicing?" Heron asked her.

"A parry," Ivory said, feeling embarrassed that he had to ask.

"I thought so," he said, nodding. "Looked good."

"Thank you." Ivory hoped he was not making fun of her.

Heron smiled, his teeth flashing in the fire light. "We'll probably reach the mountain tomorrow. The next day for certain. It would help if we knew what we might face."

Ivory sighed. "I still haven't made sense of the watch. I've learned a few things," she added, wanting Heron to know she was still trying, "but not enough."

Heron reached into his saddlebags and removed the light rod that Ivory had repaired many days prior. Turning it up lit the area around them almost as if the sun was up. "Show me what you've got."

Ivory open the small bag that held her few possessions and from it took out the watch. She ran her hands across the casing and in a moment it was expanding out. Ivory held it in her palms, staring at the workings within.

"Not too many changes," Heron said.

"No," Ivory agreed. "Small things. I think," she paused, "I think it might be mathematical in representation. A collection of angles."

Heron canted his head to the side. "It looks like the stars."

Ivory said nothing for a few seconds. She looked between the watch and Heron, biting at her lower lip. "What?" she finally asked.

"It looks like the sky at night, all the stars. It's the way the moonsilver glitters."

"No it isn't," she said hotly. "It looks nothing like that." She looked at the watch again. It could not be that.

"It's like a small observatory, or orrery. I saw one when I visited Varang."

Ivory shook her head, but it was not to disagree with Heron.

"It does not look quite right. I think," and he leaned close, "that that one," he indicated a small section of gears and springs, "almost looks like some the stars over Paragon. Almost."

Ivory wanted to cry.

"Do you know anything about astrology?"

Ivory sniffed. "A woman tried to teach me it for nearly two years," she said.

Heron nodded.

"And I spent most of that time tryin' not to learn it."

"Pardon?"

Ivory sniffed again. "Only people who don't get chosen by the dragons learn 'strology and stuff like it. When I went to my lessons all the other kids said that meant I wasn't gonna get chosen."

Heron laughed.

"Don't laugh at me," Ivory said angrily.

"Sorry," he said, but didn't sound it.

Ivory frowned as she turned her attention back to the watch.

"Maybe we can find someone to make sense of it later," Heron told her. "Or find some books on astrology."

Ivory nodded, but she was trying to remember the lessons she had done so much to tune out. The basics, she could remember the basics, couldn't she?

Heron turned down the light stick, placed it close enough to Ivory that she could continue to examine the watch. He went off, leaving her.

It was, she thought, not the entire night sky. It was parts of it, only some of the constellations. Maybe. She shook her head and closed the watch up. She hated astrology. Placing the watch aside she got up and ran off to help Heron.

* * *

Anzar moved stiffly, his wounds hardly healed, as he walked slowly up the raise. Below him were the others, Cloud Hands, Kohishi and Grace, as well as a few servants and monks. The rest of the survivors, mostly the wounded, and those who had no stomach to continue the chase, had left with Bretegani, returning to Greyfalls.

Anzar would have returned to Greyfalls himself, if not for Cloud Hands. She seemed unwilling to turn back. There was something haunted in her eyes. Anzar did not know what it was.

Grace, even wounded as she was, refused to give up the chase. It was personal for her. Anzar could understand that.

Kohishi he was not sure of. Perhaps the man felt he had nothing to lose and everything to gain by continuing the chase.

Stopping near the crest, breathing deeply, he felt a dampness on his chest. The wound had opened again, enough to begin soaking the bandages. He put his left forearm across his chest, pressing on it, and then continued up the hill.

At the top he stood and looked out over the area.

They had not come far in the two days since the attack. The same distance they might have travelled in half a day had the all been hale and well. He sat down on a large rock, still holding his arm across his wound, and looked out over the wild land of evergreens and rocky outcrops. He could see the narrow, old road that cut through the land. The road that the Anathema had likely followed.

It should have been easy, but it had grown so difficult.

Behind him he heard the sound of a rock shifting and something hitting the ground. He turned quickly, feeling his wound keenly. He found himself looking at Dreaming Blue, who was on her hands and knees, obviously having just tripped.

Anzar smiled in spite of himself, and ignoring the pain of his wound, got to his feet. "Let's me help you up," he said, offering her a hand. Not that long ago he recalled that he had been angry with her. That anger seemed to have faded with time, and perhaps the knowledge that his enemies were so powerful. How could he blame Lady Blue for Pera's death when even Abbess Cloud Hands had led them so astray?

"My thanks," she said, smiling at him and allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"I'm glad to see you Lady Blue," he told her, and it was true enough. Somehow her presence always made him feel more certain in his purpose.

"I'm glad to see you as well," she told him.

He returned to his seat on the rock. "Things have not gone well," he said. "I have not recovered the Watch, nor have I come any nearer to ending the danger of the two Anathema."

She nodded and gently brushed her fingers across his cheek. "I have no doubt that you will complete this task, nor does the Mouth of Peace. The Dragons are with you."

Anzar nodded and wondered what Blue might think if he told her that her touch and her belief meant more to him that what the Mouth of Peace thought. He almost told her, but decided that it would not do.

"You are badly hurt," Blue said to him.

Anzar nodded. "I am."

She reached into the sleeve of her kimono and brought forth a glass flask. "Drink this. It will make you feel better."

Anzar took the flask from her, staring at the unmarked container for only a moment before removing the cork from the neck and then drinking. He barely caught a scent of the wine before it was hitting tongue, the taste nearly indescribable. It was like the smell of clean stone after the first rain of the season, flowers and fruit, the lips of a lover after a long time separate. He drank it quickly, so desperate for the taste that he was unable to savour it.

As he took the empty flask from his lips he noted the pain of his wounds seemed less, perhaps numbed by the wine. He licked his lips, cleaning them of the last taste, and then nodded. "Thank you."

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked as she sat beside him on the boulder.

The wine must have made him feel better than he had thought, for his mind was not so focused on his pain and more on the closeness of Blue.

He told her what had happened, what he recalled seeing, what he had been told had happened after he had been felled. It was hard when he told her how he had, driven to a blind rage, cut down his own allies, but he told her none the less. Perhaps it was something of a penance. Blue asked him no questions, simply sat beside him and listened.

When he finished she asked, "Why are you continuing the chase? Why not return to Greyfalls to recover?"

Anzar said nothing for a few seconds, uncomfortable with the idea of speaking poorly of Cloud Hands. "The Abbess seems intent on giving chase."

"I see," Blue said. There was nothing in her tone that suggested disapproval or approval. It was as neutral as the steel gray sea and just as uninformative.

Anzar looked at the empty bottle in his hands and then put it aside. "The Watch…"

"Yes?"

"The Watch, its cost," he shook his head, "is it worth it?"

Blue put a hand on his shoulder and Anzar turned to look at her. She was smiling, though it was a sad smile, and he thought her eyes glittered, as if she might cry. "It is. Trust the Dragons, and the Mouth of Peace."

Anzar nodded, but he thought there was something that had been left unsaid by Blue, and that was, 'trust me'. And that was, he decided, good enough for him.

"I'll send you what help I can," she told him.

"I'm not sure if we can catch them," he said, not pleased to be admitting it.

"I'm sure you will." She took her hand from his shoulder.

They said nothing else for several minutes, just sat at the top of the hill, in a companionable silence. He looked about, thinking that the land was surprisingly peaceful and pleasant for what had happed not far away. And somehow he thought that the taint of the Anathema might have left a mark, but that was just being fanciful.

He did not realise that Blue had gone until he turned to tell her his thoughts. Anzar started to laugh, he laughed until there were tears running down his face, and then he continued laughing, until his stomach hurt from it all.

Finally he got to his feel, wiping his eyes. He reached to his chest, feeling the bandage that covered his wounds. He could feel the dry blood flaking. There was no pain, at least across his chest. He picked up the empty bottle and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. It made him feel good.

Tucking the bottle into his jacket he started down the hill, his step lighter than when had had climbed.

* * *

It was a small shack, with a stone floor and dark inside as there were no windows. Temal opened the door carefully, for his hands were full with a tray. There were lamps burning outside, casting a little light into the room, but not much. He knelt to place the tray on the floor and then stood, reaching for the lamp set on the interior wall.

He removed the chimney and struck a flame on the wick with a piece of flint. The oil soaked material caught quickly and in a moment the shack was filled with a soft, yellow light.

Temal turned to look at the shack's occupant.

She was Haltan, and might have looked pretty, if not for the bruises on her face, the cut and swollen lip, and the bandage around her head and the hair that had been chopped away to dress the wound. Neither he nor Silver Fingers had been particularly gentle when they had captured her. And since then she had been treated rather poorly. Torvin had made it clear that he would not condone torture, or even excessive brutality, but small, petty acts of cruelty were allowed.

He picked up the tray and moved it closer to her. She was chained to the wall, had only a limited amount of mobility. He moved within her reach, placed the food closer. Sitting crossed legged he proceeded to eat about half the food. "No poison," he said between mouthfuls. "No one has spat in it either."

After he finished his portion of the meal the woman reached forward, pulled the tray closer to herself, and then began to eat.

Temal watched as she ate, the precise way she picked out portions and put them in her mouth, never too much. She ate, he thought, as if she were in very polite company. Never chewed with her mouth open, never talked, not that she talked very much, with her mouth full.

"Do you think you could tell me your name?" Temal asked her when she had almost finished the contents of the tray.

She did not respond, just rolled the remaining rice into a ball, used that ball to pick up the bits of vegetables and meat left on the tray, then placed it in her mouth. She chewed slowly as she stared back at Temal.

"I don't blame you for not wanting to talk. I know some people have treated you pretty badly."

Temal, because he was young, and maybe because he had helped capture the woman, had been chosen to play the kind guard. Torvin had told Temal to be kind, but not too much so. 'Don't make her think it is fake' Torvin had warned.

"I can't really blame them," he shook his head, "you made this unprovoked attack on us."

"It wasn't unprovoked," she snapped.

She had not spoken much, her voice was low, and had a rough edge to it, like maybe her throat had been hurt at some time.

"It was," he responded.

"You've been raiding Haltan lands for decades, longer!"

"At least we don't consort with the dead!"

That seemed to take the anger away from her, and she said, in a more controlled tone, "It will be worth it."

Temal resisted the urge to ask her why. It was like riding a hawk, he thought, most of the time you did not push it. He simply snorted and shook his head.

That brought back some of her anger. "You, and your hawks and even your damn mountain will be dealt with," she told him. "That makes it worth it."

"The mountain?" Temal asked, forgetting his role.

She seemed to realise that she had said too much. She closed her mouth, pushed the tray towards him, and then settled back to lean against the wall, her chains clinking against each other.

Temal, guessing he was not going to get anything else out of her, took the tray, stood, and then went to blow out the lamp. In the darkness he fumbled for the door, opened it, and then stepped from the shack. On the threshold he turned and looked back. In the little light that filtered in through the open door he could just make out the woman's shape, but nothing else.

After a moment he stepped from the shack and closed the door behind him.

* * *

In the foothills forty or fifty miles from mount Metagalpa, hidden beneath an overhang of black rock, was a deep pit. At the bottom of the pit were the calcified bones of people who had died long, long ago. Long before such deaths would have caused a rift to open into the underworld. No ghosts had ever lingered in such a place as that, for there had been no ghosts then.

Faded Maiden found it both comforting and disturbing at the same time. That vast feeling of age there, of things more ancient than even the underworld which was so important to her. It was a cathedral to death, but a death of sort she did not understand.

She drew her scythe of soul steel and held it up. From the blade emanated a grave light, cold and faint, but enough to allow her to see. She walked over a floor of crushed bone, made nearly smooth by the passage of time, towards one of the many galleries carved into the rock at the bottom of the hole. She heard the soft sound of metal passing over metal, and a soft sigh and moan that told her that metal was likely soul steel.

Not too deep within the gallery she found him. He was sitting over a corpse, working twists of soul steel into the flesh, whispering soft prayers to the darkness that the Faded Maiden knew well and dared not name.

He turned towards her, his face nearly a skull, pale, scared skin stretched tight over bone, eyes set deep in their sockets, nearly appearing empty. "Is it nearly time?" he asked in a soft, almost pleasant soprano.

"It is," she told him.

"Excellent." He stood and walked towards her. He was dressed in pale, diaphanous garments, and he moved with an odd, stiff gait. Wrapped around his narrow waist was a serpent sting staff; each individual rod made of bone and capped with soul steel. His head was covered in fine, wispy hair, nearly colourless. When he reached her he held his hands out towards her.

Faded Maiden had put her scythe aside and reached out to take those hands. They were cool, and smooth, almost as if they were bone. She smiled at him and said, "We will soon see great things."

He nodded, and opened his mouth--with his thin, colourless lips it was more like a gash across his mouth--and licked his lips. "Great things. Great death."

Faded Maiden pulled him close to her, inhaling the scent of death on him, and then whispered into his ear, "Show me your creation."

"Of course," he said into her own ear, his breath barely warmer than the air about them. She trembled.

He stepped from her and moved away, heading the way that Faded Maiden had come. She grabbed her scythe and followed after him.

Back out into the bottom of the hole he took her, across the floor, circling the pile of bones in the middle, and then to the far wall. Faded Maiden did not see it at first, or saw it and did not recognise it. Then it became apparent. She sighed and said, "It is beautiful."

He stopped near the huge arm of bone and gently stroked his fingers across the wrist. "I am well pleased with it."

Faded Maiden stepped closer, she reached out towards it, her hand stopping just short, and she turned to look towards its creator. He nodded and smiled at her. She touched it, stroking a small length of the vast forearm. It was made up of many bones, expertly put together with hair thin wrappings and pins of soul steel. Even up close it was hard to see that it was a collection of smaller bones and not the arm of some vast behemoth.

She might have stood there for a long time, simply marvelling at the work, but from above came the sound of small stones raining down, and she turned away from the arm, looking towards the noise.

Courtesan was descending quickly, leaping down the near sheer sides of the pit, her skirt and petticoats bouncing around her as she went. She touched down lightly upon the mound of fossilized bones and looked around. "Dreary," she said.

The man looked towards Faded Maiden, the question obvious in his bearing.

"Our Master's newest servant," she explained.

Courtesan looked towards Faded Maiden and then skipped down from the pile, sliding to a stop close to her. She looked at the man and asked, "Who is he?" she asked, obvious distaste in her voice.

"You may call him Truth Found in Pain of Fire."

"Please," he said, "just Truth."

"This," Faded Maiden said, her tone cold and disapproving, "is Nihilistic Courtesan."

"I am very pleased to meet you," Truth said, and extended his hand towards Courtesan.

Faded Maiden was a little surprised that Courtesan actually took it, and seemed to show no distaste at the nearly skeletal hand.

Courtesan released Truth's hand and turned to look at the vast arm. "What is this?" she asked.

Truth smiled. "I call it 'The Mountain Breaker', though so far it has only been used to sew confusion amongst the hawkriders."

Courtesan looked at it for several second, then turned away from it, as if it were nothing, and asked, "Where is Lord Walker?"

Faded Maiden held her temper.

"He speaks with the Haltans, assuaging their fears and getting them ready," Truth said.

"I'll go and see if he requires me," Courtesan said, and then moved quickly, climbing from the hole with a series of graceful leaps.

Faded Maiden watched her go and then said, "That girl has no appreciation of the dead."

"Which is likely why she is here," Truth said.

She looked towards him. He had turned his attention back to the arm and was examining the finger joints.

Truth continued. "The living can be useful allies, our Master believes. Courtesan appears as if she will be comfortable around them, and more importantly make them comfortable." He looked away from his work and to Faded Maiden. "Which is better than we might do, do you not agree?"

Faded Maiden nodded.

"The Haltans have a long history of amenity with the Hawkriders. Who would really pay much attention to them making an attack, even if they make use of the dead?"

"Certainly not the other Deathlords," Faded Maiden said. As much as she disliked dealing with the living, she recognised the sound strategy of her Master.

"I believe that young Courtesan will win them over and smooth out the last doubts. She is," he turned back to his work, "very pretty."

* * *

The mountain floated high above the land in a manner that Heron found somewhat disconcerting. From the distance Mount Metagalpa could just been seen as the highest peak in the range. Then, as he got closer, it had become obvious that the mountain flew high above the land. Hearing about it was one thing, but like so many of the wonders of Creation, seeing it was yet another.

Such an impossible thing, it had to be wrong.

Dragon surged forward, his steel shod hooves loud on the stone, as he climbed up the steep hill. Ivory, sitting on front of Heron, clung tightly to the saddle horn. Heron flicked the reigns, directing Dragon a little to the left. The surface under the horse's hooves became a little more solid and Dragon crested the raise easily.

They came to a stop upon a high cliff, staring down at the broken land where once the mountain had rested. Heron looked up and whistled softly. He stared at the base of the flying mountain. He was still some distance from it, but it looked so vast.

"How are we going to get up there?" Ivory asked, breaking Heron out of his thoughts.

"We'll deal with that when we need to get up there," he told her, and turned Dragon, sending him walking along the rough ridge.

"But, it's, whatever that is, is only two days away! Less than two days!"

"I know," Heron told her.

"But, but…"

"Did you always get excited before festival days?" Heron asked her with a laugh. "Unwilling to wait before opening your presents?"

He suspected from her sudden silence that she had. "I want to get a look around before I try to make contact with the people of the flying mountain. I don't think they will be particularly kind to strangers."

"Alright," Ivory said, her tone hinting at disappointment.

"I think that in the end that we will have to visit the mountain. And everyone should stand on a flying mountain at least once in their lives," he said good naturedly, but in truth he supposed that he would not feel too bad if ne never got the chance to do so.

Dragon skilfully navigated the rock ridgeline, finding a path. Heron looked about, his eyes sharp with essence, seeking out some clue that would explain why the watch indicated the importance of this place. In the distance he saw hawks flying around the mountain. Patrolling, he guessed. Perhaps they always were so vigilant, but somehow he thought not.

Being on a flying mountain likely offered a great deal of natural security.

There was an odd scent on the wind, and he could tell from the way Dragon acted the horse smelt it as well. Even sharpening his sense of smell with essence, he could not readily identify all that he was smelling. Old smoke, a hint of something rotten, perhaps stale sweat; it was all beyond him to make much sense of it.

Then he caught something, the wind had shifted, bringing with it a smell he recognised as oiled leather and mail. He pulled Dragon to a halt a moment before Ivory said, "Hu says something is up ahead of us."

Heron did not say anything, just swung off of Dragon's back and then led the horse into the cover of a large boulder. Ivory slid down from Dragon's back, landing unsteadily on the uneven surface.

"Hu says there are some armed people not too far in front of us. He says it looks like they are hiding."

Heron looked about and spotted the tiger, crouched in a patch of shadow, nearly invisible but for his eyes. He often wondered if Ivory and the tiger could really speak to each other, and how detailed that conversation was. Perhaps most of it was just Ivory being an imaginative child.

He did not doubt what Ivory had told him. It matched with what he smelt himself.

"I'm going to go ahead. I want you and Hu to stay here with Dragon."

Ivory looked like she was going to object, but Heron just looked levelly at her before she opened her mouth. He found it was a good look to use on Ivory. She nodded after a few seconds. "Okay," she said, not sounding particularly pleased.

"I'll be back soon."

"Be careful."

Heron nodded, then turned and began to move away.

No master of stealthy movement, Heron crossed the rocky ground slowly, careful not to kick any lose stones, keeping upwind in hopes that the wind would not blow any of the sound he might make towards those he approached.

It took him some time before he got close enough to hear voices, and that that point he began to move even slower. Finally, after perhaps an hour, he was perched in the shadow of a jagged piece of rock, looking down at a small group or armoured men and women.

Two of them had spyglasses and were watching the mountain. There were several bundles of gray cloth near them which Heron thought would be used as a blind, to hide under in case one of the hawkriders approached. They spoke softly among themselves, Forest Tongue, a language that Heron did not know well. However, he was very good at languages, and them more he listened the more he understood.

They were, like most soldiers he had met, complaining about the situation they found themselves in. A lot of those complaints seemed to be directed towards someone called 'Veradun'. Heron suspected that this Veradun was something of an unpleasant sort as one man told his companion, "Damn if it don't make my balls slink into my gut when he gives me that look of his."

There were no great secrets revealed, at least as far as Heron could tell. He was somewhat intrigued when one asked, "We gonna keep tossin' dead bodies at them until that mountain falls or what?"

As his companions admitted ignorance to future plans Heron wondered why they were using dead bodies. Perhaps some kind of disease warfare? Or maybe the dead they hurled were still ambulatory.

After about an hour Heron decided he would learn little more, and he did not feel much like remaining there. He shifted back, moving away from the small camp, waiting until he was some distance and then moving faster.

He wanted to get back to Ivory in case the girl got bored and did something unwise. It turned out that was not a problem; he found her sitting in the shadow of an overhanging rock, the watch open in front of her.

Ducking under the rock he asked, "Find out anything?"

She shook her head, apparently unsurprised at his appearance, "Not really."

"If I told you that they were throwing dead bodies up onto the mountain would that help?"

Ivory looked at him, obviously confused, then back at the watch. She chewed lightly on her lower lip for a moment and then shook her head. "I don't think so."

Heron nodded, a little disappointed, but careful not to show it. He quickly told Ivory of what he had discovered. She listened but in the end made no more sense of it then he had.

"So now what?" Ivory asked.

"I suppose we could continue to sneak around the edges, look for more of these soldiers, perhaps even find this Veradun person, but we are on something of a tight time frame here. I think we'll find out more if we go to the mountain."

Ivory's eyes lit up for a moment at the prospect, but a moment later, in a more sombre tone, she asked, "But how do we get up there?"

"Don't worry," Heron said as he settled down into the shade under the rock. "Get some rest. We'll move out once it is dark."

Ivory did not seem to be willing to accept that as an answer and began to pester him about exactly what they would be doing.

Heron was not sure if it made him petty to enjoy a little girl's consternation about such a thing, or if it was just being an adult.

* * *

The large cavern stunk of the living. The scents of sweat, smoke, cooking and burning food, urine and wine mixed together like some sort of barn. Faded Maiden had to be careful of her footing so she did not stumble. The uneven floor was part of it, but the scent was more of a concern, for it seemed it hit her like a wall.

She would not let it affect her however, for she would not bring shame to her lord.

With all the grace she could muster she moved through the cavern and the people who lived within it, soldiers, towards the center. She saw people, Haltans almost all, sitting at fires, eating, drinking, working on their weapons or armour, other doing various jobs that were required for a camp that size.

She passed the morgue, took some comfort at the bodies laid out there, all properly, though simply, embalmed, awaiting the touch of a necrosurgeon to quicken them. The bodies, she noted, were all Linowans, with their skin the colour of autumn oak leaves and black hair. How interesting, she thought, for a moment forgetting the stink of the place, that they are willing to give the bodies of their enemies to the necrosurgeon, but obviously not their own dead.

She shifted her thoughts away from the foolishness of such people and back to the reason she had come.

She found her master and lord standing in an area of the cavern where the floor had been made level with a layer of fine gravel, and carpets had been spread out and tables and chairs placed upon the carpets. It was, she surmised, a war room of sorts, for there was a large table covered in maps and charts.

Fighting back the urge to prostrate herself upon the carpet she stepped lightly and closed on her lord. As much as it distressed her not to show him proper respect, and as much as it angered her that the Haltans spoke to him as if he were nothing more than some mortal necromancer, she said nothing. It was, as she knew, vital that her master's presence in this place remain a secret.

He stood at the head of the table, his long, graceful hands sweeping over the maps, laying out a battle plan which was the work of genius. They watched him, generals impressed by his battle acumen, mortals captivated by his beauty. His pale skin and hair stood out sharply against the crimson robes he wore. Most times his eyes seemed a icy blue, but sometimes they seemed to flash amber, when he made an important point, when his emotions ran high.

Faded Maiden watched him, captivated; her lord, Walker in Darkness, the Black Psychopomp, the Promulgate of the Cromlech Cinerary, known by these unworthy Haltans as Veradun, the Ice Necromancer.

There was, Faded Maiden knew, a real Ice Necromancer, or had been, for she did not know if Walker in Darkness had killed the man, or if it was an alias that her lord had come up with.

It did not really matter, however, for all that really mattered was that no one should connect the Ice Necromancer as the most powerful of the Death Lords.

She listened as he laid out the plan to the Haltans. The brilliant attack that would have the Haltans taking Mount Metagalpa and all the treasures, including the very valuable hawks and rocs. It sounded so wonderful, Faded Maiden could almost believe it.

It was, however, all a lie.

The Haltans would not be conquering the mountain.

Her lord had much better plans for it.

Finally Walker in Darkness finished speaking to the Haltans, and he dismissed them, without actually saying the words. To the generals it would seem that they had chosen to walk away.

He stood, alone at the table, for several seconds, a smile pulling at the corners of his perfect lips, then he turned towards Faded Maiden.

He truly smiled at her.

She felt her heart beat fast in her chest and it was all she could do to not fall upon her knees.

"I'm glad that you have been able to make it," he said, as if there might have been the possibility that she would not. "There are great things to accomplish."

Faded Maiden swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat, and said, as if they were just two equals talking, "It was a difficult journey, but I knew that you would need us here." And she smiled back at him. No one watching must suspect the truth, and that knowledge helped her play her role.

"So, it is all ready?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Excellent. I believe that our Haltan friends will be well pleased, and will of course reward us greatly."

She could almost believe that he cared only for the reward. He then said, in a lower tone, "There is a problem."

"What is it?"

"Hayden and all those with her have been destroyed."

Destroyed? Faded Maiden thought, and then almost instantly understood. Destroyed completely, beyond death. "How?"

"I am not entirely certain. It might be the child she sought."

"The child? Could she be so strong?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps some other agent is responsible." He smiled. "But at the moment I'm less concerned with who destroyed Hayden and the others and more concerned that it has happened fairly close to us. This makes things more," he paused, "difficult."

She nodded and said nothing.

"I would not have my plans threatened when I am so close to achieving them. To that end I must take myself away from here lest my presence bring more attention to this place. I will leave you in charge of this. We both know that Shards of Basalt would be the better choice, but that is not possible."

"It is a great honour," she told him.

"Be careful, and do not fail me in this."

"I will not!" she said, louder than she intended. She lowered her voice and said, "I will ensure that this mission succeeds."

"Do that," he said, and in those simple words were carried the weight of promise, for rewards for success and for punishments for failure.

"When will you leave us?"

"Soon. I'll make excuses to the Haltans, ensure they remain ignorant and continue to play their part."

She nodded, sad that her lord would be leaving.

"Watch Courtesan," he said.

It was sudden and took her by surprise. "Of course."

He nodded and once more smiled.


	21. To Know them is to Love Them

Leaping long, Dragon galloped across the rocky shale, putting his hooves on solid ground with amazing certainty considering that it was night.

Heron did not doubt his mount's ability to navigate the terrain, even in the dark. Ivory obviously did not share his feelings, for she had cried out more than once.

"Hold on," Heron said, tapping his heels on Dragon's flanks to urge the horse on.

Dragon responded, stretching out his pace even more, to the point where he was almost flying.

Heron planned to go beyond Almost.

His caste mark glittered as he twisted the flows of essence about, making it flow between he and Dragon. He had never before done what he was about to try, but he had thought of it, and several nights before he had dreamed about it. The essence flows completed their connections and Heron enforced his will on them, solidifying what he had forged.

With Dragon's next jump the horse slipped the bounds of the earth and galloped across the air.

Heron laughed, for never before had he felt so free.

Ivory, just realising what had happened, let out a cry of surprise.

"Don't worry," Heron told her as he urged Dragon higher.

"We're… we're…"

"Flying," Heron said, and he laughed again. "It appears so." He did not have to speak very loud, for no longer did Dragon's hooves thunder against the stone.

"But how?"

Heron had to laugh again.

"Alright, I know how, but… Can you teach me?" she suddenly asked, her tone hopeful.

"Given time, no doubt," he said, the laugher gone from his voice. "But for the moment, we have other things to think about."

"What are we going to do when we get up there?"

"I have a few ideas. It will depend on how much trouble the residents of Metagalpa are in."

* * *

"Lord Walker has gone?" Courtesan asked.

"Yes, he has," Faded Maiden said.

"He's gone?"

"I don't understand what you find so difficult about this," Faded Maiden said, cuttingly.

Courtesan knew she appeared stupid, but she could not believe that Walker in Darkness would simply leave. After all the trouble gone to set things up, to simply leave… She could not conceive it. "And he left you in charge?"

It was not the right thing to say.

"You find such a thing hard to believe?" Faded Maiden asked; there was no emotion in her voice.

Courtesan looked over towards Truth, hoping he might offer some aid, but his attention was focused on his work. She looked back to Faded Maiden and said, "No, of course not."

"I am so very glad to hear that."

She did not sound happy.

Courtesan nodded.

"Now that we have come to an agreement on that, I wish you to take care of the Haltans."

Courtesan still wanted to know why Walker had left, but it was certain that Faded Maiden would not tell her. If only Walker had left someone else in charge, however she suspected that Faded Maiden was his only real choice. He obviously did not trust her, and Truth looked as if he had difficulty seeing beyond his work.

"What would you have me do?"

"Talk to the Haltans, convince them that they have nothing to worry about. We need them to play their part. Ensure that they do."

"Of course," Courtesan said. "I'll go now."

"Good."

Courtesan waited a moment, to see if Faded Maiden might offer any other information, or further instructions, but she simply stared coolly back.

Turning, Courtesan strode away, towards the mouth of the cave. She looked back once to see Faded Maiden speaking to Truth. Likely she was telling him why Lord Walker had gone away, she thought bitterly.

She stepped out of the cave, into the cool air of the mountains at night. On either side of her were the guards that Walker had put in place. She smelled large animals and blood before she saw them, hidden in the deep shadow. The blood apes were just some of the demons that Walker and Truth had summoned, but they were the ones that Courtesan liked the least.

The two demons seemed to know of Courtesan's feeling, for they came out of the shadows, blowing and growling, so close to her that their scent made her stomach roll. However she did not flinch and looked between one and the other, waiting for them to back off. After several seconds they backed away from her, moving into the shadows, growling lowly.

Courtesan continued on, not looking back.

The caverns where the Haltan commanders had set up was some distance away, by the safest path. Courtesan did not take the safest path, but instead the quickest. More than once she was descending and climbing nearly vertical surfaces, calling on her powers to easily run along the sheer, stone surfaces.

There were guards outside the cavern entrance. Courtesan dropped from the heights, knees together, hands holding her skirt from flying up. She landed directly in front of them, crouched. One shouted out and reached for his weapon; the other stumbled back and fell over.

Courtesan straightened up and bowed. "I have need to see your commanders."

"Lady's Tits girl!" the one with his hand on his sword's hilt said. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"May I pass?" she asked as she started forward.

The man who had fallen made some strange noises, but for the moment seemed unable to form a coherent sentence.

Neither stopped her from entering the long, sloping cavern and she did not look back. It had been somewhat petty of her, but she had enjoyed that.

There were other guards, but she simply told them she was there on business, and most had seen her earlier when she had come there with Lord Walker.

When she reached the central chamber she was assaulted by the surprisingly comforting scent of people. She had not realised how much being among the dead had affected her, until she was once more with so many of the living.

As she moved through the underground encampment she caught the undercurrent of uncertainty among the soldiers. It had not been there last time. Of course then Lord Walker had been there. Did these people even realise how much they had come to depend on him? Had he asked they would have bowed their heads to him and begged to be enslaved.

Not much different from she, Courtesan thought.

However, such a mood would not aid in the mission.

She pulled her bow from around her back, drew several arrows, and as she strode forwards she put nock to string, drew and fired, towards the large table where the commanders gathered. There were not too many people there right then, but enough so that her arrow, speeding by, caused some alarm.

As the arrow sunk deep into the stone Courtesan fired another and began to run. She put a third into the stone as she leapt up onto the table, a fourth as she jumped to land on the first arrow she had fired, and then three more as she climbed her ladder of arrows. She needed to impress them, needed them all watching her.

She ended up clinging to the roof, staring down at the soldiers below. Her bow was once more stowed behind her back, and she used one hand to keep her skirt from falling up around her waist.

"We will take Metagalpa as easily as I stand on the ceiling above you," she told them. "And no matter that it looks impossible." Her words were strengthened with dark essence, slipping into the minds of her audience, the same way she might slip unseen into a fortress. And once within she could strike a precise blow, as her words did.

Some of the soldiers clapped, or cheered, most relaxed visibly. The feeling uncertainty was fading.

Courtesan dropped from her upside down perch, flipped over, skirts and petticoats flaring about her, and landed lightly on the floor.

Several of the force's commanders were staring at her, as if not certain what to make of her.

"We have final plans to discuss," she told them, and walked to the table, expecting them to follow.

They did.

* * *

For a flying mountain there was much about Metagalpa that Heron found rather mundane. Pathways, sheep and goat pastures, old mines, various animal life, even an old still that looked as if had been left alone for some time. He had crossed several rivers, which had surprised him. Where did the water come from?

He did not see any people, wandering the paths. Perhaps it was that it was dark. Perhaps it was because of the zombies.

There were, he had decided, after having cut down several, a large number of zombies there. Hopefully that would work for him.

It was a little after the sun had risen that he found what he was looking for.

He heard it first, the sound of battle; cries of fright, orders shouted, a scream. He turned towards Hu--Heron had no idea how the tiger had gotten up onto the mountain--and said, "Stay out of sight."

Ivory, who had been sleeping in the saddle in front of him, woke. "Whas happenin'," she asked with a yawn, and rubbed at her eyes.

"Just sit there and keep quiet," Heron told her. "And don't do anything."

"But…"

"Be seen and not heard, got it?" He sent Dragon running forward.

"Fine," she said, over the sound of Dragon's hooves.

She sounded angry.

Heron, at that moment, did not care.

He drew a flame wand as Dragon sped down the path.

Below him, in a place where the path widened, he saw them. Several zombies, hobbling along on twisted legs, and a handful of young men and women, trying to hold them off.

Heron opened up with the flame wand, the cloud of flame setting a few of the zombies afire. Dragon leapt amongst them, kicking out with his deadly hooves as Heron used the butt of the flamewand to crack open the skulls of the dead.

They did not last long.

Dragon lifted his hoof and then drove it down onto the skull of the last zombie still moving. With a wet crunch the zombie's body jerked and then stopped.

Heron looked around at the people, residents of Mount Metagalpa. They looked like young men and women who had been pressed into guard duty. They started at him, some open mouthed, as if they were not sure about what had happened. "Are you alright?" he asked them.

For several seconds they said nothing, just continued to stare. Then the tallest of them, a man who looked like he still had some growing to do, said, "I think so."

Heron looked them over. No serious wounds, from the looks of things; small things, scratches, bites, some bruising. "You should probably get those wounds cleaned out."

The man and a few of the others nodded.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

He felt Ivory shift against him, wondered if she was trying to stifle laughter.

A young man, more a boy, asked, "What?"

"Where am I?"

"You're on Mount Metagalpa. Don't you know that?" That from a girl with a long face and an excessive over bite--she looked a little like a horse, Heron thought somewhat uncharitably.

"The flying mountain?"

This time Heron was certain that Ivory was trying not to laugh.

There were nods of disbelief.

"I think I am lost," Heron said to them.

It was ridiculous of course, but Heron knew that ridiculous would probably work. The people he had saved were frightened, but relieved to be alive, and thankful to him for saving them. Add to that the absurdity of him somehow ending up on the mountain by means of getting lost, well, it all put them at a disadvantage.

"Is there someone you can take me to, maybe a village headman or something?" He smiled.

"We can take you to old Flint Tooth," the young man who had spoken earlier said.

"That would be very kind of you," Heron told him. He swung down from the horse and said, "My daughter could use some rest."

Ivory lost her battle not to laugh, but she changed the giggle to a faux sneeze.

"I'm called Heron Jade Eyes," he said.

Having introduced himself, the group had little choice, pushed along by the forces of politeness and Heron's not inconsiderable charm, but to introduce themselves.

Panta was the tall one, and apparently the leader of the small militia group. Misha was the horse faced girl, and Unnan the young boy. Jenja was a sullen, broad shouldered youth, Ophel a pretty, barefoot girl with a wild look to her, and Nar a dark haired, handsome young man.

Heron led Dragon, leaving Ivory on his back. It was easier to speak with his guides if they did not have to look up at him. He needed to learn as much as he could, and those six were going to tell him.

Jenja seemed to the most serious, and the one who kept in mind that Heron was an unknown. However, he seemed to like Misha, and when Misha paid him any attention he blushed and said little. It was child's play to get Misha paying attention to Jenja.

Ophel probably was the sharpest among them, but she also said very little. She looked at Heron as if she knew what he was up to, but said nothing. Heron kept an eye on her.

Nar seemed to think he should be in charge over Panta, and the tall young man knew it. So Nar and Panta were competing to show off their knowledge--perhaps for Ophel, perhaps for Heron, thinking him a woman. And Unnan piped up to fill in details, the boy trying to prove he was a man.

Heron felt a little bad for them, but only a little. Had he too much sympathy he would never be able to make his living as a gambler.

The story of what had been happening at Metagalpa was slowly coming clear. A catapult, or a giant arm, there was an argument about that, hurling dead up onto the mountain. A captured Haltan. Growing chaos. And they still did not know exactly what was happening.

When they reached the village the young people had very likely told Heron everything they knew about the situation on the mountain. And it was nowhere near enough information.

Heron's arrival did not go unnoticed. He suspected that there were not a lot of horses on the mountain, and Metagalpa was a very closed society. Strangers stood out. People stared and spoke amongst themselves. The militia group, as Heron was thinking of them, that had brought him there seemed to just be noticing it. Perhaps they were thinking that they had made a mistake.

Then a woman was striding towards them, and from the way he saw Penta and Jenja hunch their shoulders he suspected that the woman was someone that pulled some power. She was somewhat short and skinny, and she had shaved her head.

"Who on the blasted ground are you?" she demanded. "Who is she?" she asked of the young men and women around Heron.

"She, she saved us," Unnan stammered out.

"Saved you from what?"

"Zombies, Rider Barinna," Panta said.

"Just Zombies?"

That question confused the young men and women with Heron.

"I think she is concerned that any enemy would likely feel the sacrifice of zombies to be of little consequence in order to insinuate him or herself into your community," Heron said with a smile.

"You think that just because you speak the threat it discounts it?" Barinna demanded.

Heron simply smiled.

"How did you get here?"

"She said she got lost," Panta said. He suddenly hunched his shoulders, as if realising how stupid that sounded.

"How did you get here?" she asked again, her tone cold, each word clipped.

"Would you believe it if I told you I rode?"

She put her hand on her sword hilt. "How did you get up here?"

"A Haslanti air boat."

She nodded. It was the sort of answer she wanted. She then looked about at the people gathered around. "Alright, everyone has work to do. Get to it. You," she looked at the militia members, "bring her this way, I'll continue this in some place more private." She turned and walked away.

Heron did not wait for anyone to try to lead him, but started after Barinna, Dragon following close at his heels.

The place more private was a small warehouse on the edge of the village. Heron took Ivory down from the saddle, whispering into her ear, "Let me do all the talking," and then, leaving Dragon outside, entered the building.

Barinna was waiting inside. "Over there," she said, pointing a clear space away from the door.

Heron did as directed, taking a moment to sit Ivory down on a small crate. He winked at her, then turned to face Barinna. She stared at him as if she was ready to do violence at the smallest sign of pretence.

He did not feel threatened, for he had seen the truth of the woman, of everyone he had met on Metagalpa so far. They were all afraid, all uncertain, and all hoping for a solution. When Unnan had told her that Heron had saved them there had been the moment of hope in her face. She had hid it well, but Heron was too skilled a gambler not to see it.

"Who are you?" Barinna demanded.

"My name is Heron Jade Eyes, from Paragon. This is my daughter, Ivy."

"Ivy?" Ivory said softly, as if the name somehow offended her. Heron thought he heard her add, "Stupid Cynis name."

"You're far from Paragon."

"I travel a lot."

"You came here by air boat?"

"Yes." Heron smiled.

"Where is it?"

"Gone."

"Gone?"

"Continued on, had a tight schedule."

She looked doubtful.

"You are welcome to search for it."

"Why did you come here?"

"Curiosity. A desire to help. When passing the area I saw the people arrayed against you. I don't care much for those that consort with the dead. I thought I would help you." Much of what Heron said was the truth, but he knew the story would not seem believable, so he added a little magic to his words, giving them a weight of truth that could not be denied.

Barinna nodded. "I see. But how can you help? You are just one woman, with a child."

Heron smiled, deciding it was not time to bring up the fact he was a man. It would just confuse the issue. "Well, I have some information, but, I hear you captured a prisoner. I could speak to her. Perhaps convince her to tell me something useful. I hear you have not had much luck." Another subtle use of a charm, convincing Barinna that it was a perfect idea.

"We'll have to go to the town. That's where she is being held."

"The sooner the better," Heron said.

Barinna nodded. "Of course. Please, let's go."

It was like they were friends now.

Heron looked over his shoulder and smiled at Ivory.

"Show off," Ivory whispered.

* * *

It was, Heron thought, not the worst prison he had even seen, but it shared the same atmosphere. He tuned up the lantern he had brought in and placed it on the stone floor. The Haltan woman looked warily at him, her eyes hard. Everything about her said she was not going to talk.

Heron knelt down, sniffed the air. "Not a pleasant smell in here. See you got a bucket to piss and crap in," he said good naturedly. "Pretty grim. What's your name?"

She said nothing.

Heron moved closer. In a soft tone that brooked no argument, backed by essence, he said, "Tell me your name."

"Holly Skylark," she said, as if surprised to find herself talking. "Third Claw Leader of the Haltan Expeditionary force."

"Pleased to meet you Holly. I am Heron. I'm here to rescue you."

"Rescue… Me?"

"Is it that surprising? Can't let a Claw Leader simply languor in prison. Veradun has grown worried you might give away something important," Heron told her. He was not sure if a Claw Leader was important enough for Verdun to care about, but figured he would give it a chance.

The widening if her eyes and the quickening of her breath made Heron suspect he had said the right thing.

"Considering how close this is to happening, I'm sure you can understand Veradun's concern."

She nodded slowly.

"Best to get you out of here, don't you agree?"

"Yes," she said.

Heron moved forward, reaching out, as if he was going to open her bonds, then he halted. "Of course how do I know if you are the real Holly Skylark?"

She looked confused.

"Perhaps this is some sort of trick. Perhaps I should just leave you here."

"No," she shook her head.

"Might be best to wait until there are people who can truly identify you. Might be a little unsafe with the zombies that are bound to be wandering around here, but I'm sure you'll be okay." Heron had to be careful as he worked his influence on the woman's mind. He wanted her scared, so she would not be thinking well, but he did not want her to panic.

"No," she said, "I'm really Holly. Please, get me away from here."

Heron looked thoughtful, and he shifted back slightly. "Tell me about the mission. That way I can be sure of who you are. Tell me about Veradun." It was, Heron thought, a ham fisted approach, which would not have worked had he not backed it up with essence. Had he more time he would have been much more subtle and precise. He suspected he could now get the woman to tell him everything he needed on charisma alone.

She swallowed and started to speak. "He's a necromancer, from up North I've heard. They call him the Ice Necromancer. He came to the Council of Nobles, when they were planning on how to deal with the Metagalpa issue. The animals hated him, they said." She stared wide eyed at Heron, the words nearly falling from her mouth.

"I'm still not convinced," Heron said. "Go on."

"He had a plan, to take the mountain. He had built these horrible things," she shuddered, "that promised us victory."

"How?"

"He's used the Mountain Breaker, the catapult, to throw the massive, undead giants onto the mountain. They used huge pieces of cloth to slow their fall, so they could land safely. They will haul up huge baskets."

It was, Heron thought, a rather good plan. It did not ring quite true to him, however.

"Why does he want to help you take this mountain?"

"What?" Holly asked.

"Why does he want to help you take this mountain? What's in it for him?"

She looked confused and said nothing for several seconds. "He must have a reason," she finally told Heron.

"And what do you think that is?"

She said nothing for a long time, simply stared at Heron. What Heron saw in her eyes began to worry him. It was all he could do to maintain his cool façade. When she said, "I'm sure it is a good reason that will benefit our nation," he had to keep his emotions under control.

"When will the attack come?" he asked, feeling as if he was on safer ground.

"Soon," she replied, sounding as if she was happy to move onto a more certain topic as well, "within days I'm certain."

Heron nodded and got to his feet. "I'll be back soon," he told her.

"Please hurry."

He nodded and then left the shack. The bright sun on his face made him feel better, but only a little.

It took him a moment to notice there were a lot of people standing around the shack. Almost all of them armed, all with the thin, wiry build of hawkriders.

Barinna stood close by. She gave him an apologetic look. One old friend to another, Heron thought, and felt a wash of unease.

Heron took a deep breath, and then smiled. He picked out their leader, and old man with leather like skin and no hair. "We should talk," he said softly, "but away from here."

The old man said nothing for a moment, and then nodded. "We should."

Heron stepped forward, and the old man fell in beside him. The hawkriders fell in around them. Heron supposed he was under guard. He walked over to where Dragon stood, Ivory beside him. He smiled at Ivory. "Want to ride?" he asked her as he took Dragon's reigns.

She shook her head.

"Okay. Let's go where the nice people lead." He looked towards the old man and nodded.

As they walked the old man said, "I'm Torvin."

"Heron."

"So Barinna said. She seems confident that you are a friend."

"She is an excellent judge of character."

Torvin frowned.

"You heard what the Haltan said?" Heron asked, switching topics.

"I heard some of what she said."

"Have you managed to get anything out of her?"

Torvin said nothing for several seconds, then, "If it is the truth, you've done us a great favour."

They had left the town and were climbing higher into the mountains. Above them Heron could see the stone structure of what he guessed was the hawks' eyrie. "Do you believe I am here to help you?"

Torvin looked thoughtful. He stopped. The rest of the hawkriders came to a halt as well. More than one had put a hand near a weapon. He saw Ivory shift nervously and move closer to Dragon. Things could go any way, Heron decided. It all depended on what Torvin did.

"I think you could be here to help us. But you could also be here to mislead us."

"That's fair," Heron said, deciding he could work with that. "For the moment, what do you say we at least act as if you think I am here to help, even as you watch me like," and at this Heron smiled, "a hawk."

For a moment the people around Heron were silent. Then Torvin started laughing, the rest of the Hawkriders joining him.

It was, Heron thought, a good start.


	22. Answers in a Dream

Ivory dreamed.

She knew it was a dream, and yet she could do nothing but let it play out.

It was a familiar feeling to her. What she was dreaming was not hers. All she could do was watch.

She found herself standing in her home, in the manse, around her the familiar things and people. Even seen in a dream it made her heart ache.

She turned, a man in red had turned into a hallway, she had only caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Who was he?

His large cape had brushed by one of the display cases, causing it to shake. From the top of it toppled a crystal vase full of black flowers.

Ivory did not even have a chance to move forward, and somehow there was a weight of inevitability to what was happening that she felt powerless against.

The vase hit, the crystal shattered, the flowers seemed to explode and filled the air with black petals that filled Ivory with an unnamed dread.

Then it was gone, and she stood on a street in some busy city. People around her went about their business. Ivory heard and a roar from some distance away and wondered what it was, where she was, as she looked around and stepped out of path of busy looking people.

Then the area was cast into shadow, and Ivory shivered. She looked up, as did the people around her. High above her was something huge, hiding the sun. It grew larger and once more Ivory felt her heart gripped by a feeling of terror.

The world twisted about her, and Ivory found herself standing on a rocky precipice. Mount Metagalpa, she thought. The wind, so strong it threatened to lift her up and hurl her off the mountain side, caused her hair and clothing to snap about her painfully. The horizon far off in the distance seemed to twist and jerk and rise higher.

The mountain was gone, the city was gone, her home was gone. She stood in a world of grays and black, in some mean little village full of mean little ghosts. Ivory shivered and drew her over large cloak around her as her teeth began to chatter.

Then high above her the black sky broke, and a vast wall of rock came through the wound. It crashed into the village, plunging deep into the gray ground, pushing up strange rock formations that looked like buildings.

Ivory was thrown off her feet and was rolled along the ground by the tremors.

Then the shaking stopped and she scrambled to her feet.

The village was gone. She stood in some vast cathedral of basalt and bone, surrounded by an oppressive silence that weighed so heavily on her that she was driven to her knees. The smooth stone beneath her hands was cold, and her finger grew numb as if she had plunged them into an icy pond.

Beginning to pant, she felt trails of cold perspiration slide down her face. She almost cried out, but stopped herself, frightened that this horrible place would swallow up her voice.

When she heard the soft, indistinct whisper she turned her head towards the sound. It was the first noise she had heard in the place. Unable to stand she crawled across the floor, towards the sound. She came to the lip of a pit, unmarked by any sort of barrier or warning.

Afraid, but unable to do anything but move forwards, she crawled to the edge of the pit and looked down.

She stood on the top of a mountain as the world twisted above and below her was a dark pit.

On the streets of a city she stared up at the huge mass blocking out the sun, but it was a vast pit which the city fell towards.

Around her the village of ghosts was destroyed, falling into a pit, as around the pit rose up a city of byzantine twists and turns where no straight line existed.

She stood in a hallway of her home, staring down at the remains of a broken vase. Somehow the water was dissolving the floor, opening up a hole that spread out, things falling into the pit created, disappearing into the darkness.

And from the pit came strange whispers.

Ivory woke up, sitting up straight.

"Are you okay?" she heard someone ask.

She looked towards the speaker. He was a young man, thin, wiry, no body fat, just lean muscle. The look of a hawk rider. He was also a Terrestrial, air aspected. Many times, crouching in some hidden corner, Ivory and her cousins had watched the adults at parties, trying to guess the aspect of new comers.

"I'm," she started to say, then, "What?"

"You looked like you were having a nightmare," he told her.

"Oh," Ivory said.

"My name's Temal."

Ivory was about to say, 'I'm Ivory,' though she supposed he had heard her name, or the version Heron had given, but it was manners coming to the fore. Instead, when she opened her mouth, she said, "Long has this land been in Mela's protectorate, but Pasiap will not much longer be denied what is his."

It simply spilled from her mouth, in a manner that would not be denied, like all such pronouncements.

She looked up at Temal, supposing he'd be angry, or at least concerned, about what she had said.

Instead he looked at her curiously. "What did you say?" he asked.

Ivory was about to repeat it, stupidly, when she realised she had not spoken the prophecy in a language that he understood. "Sorry," she told him. "It was nothing. Where's Heron?"

He looked at her, perhaps doubting her, perhaps just confused. "He's with the others still, planning."

Ivory nodded as she got off the cot where she had been sleeping. She was in a small barracks of sort, temporary guest quarters she supposed, for there was very little there beyond the most basic of furnishings.

Suddenly she looked up at Temal. "Why are you here?"

He looked a little surprised. "I was told to keep an eye on you," he said. "I heard you cry out."

Ivory wondered if he was guarding her, or watching out for her. Not important, Ivory told herself. "I have to see Heron," she said, and started towards the door.

She opened the door, stepped out into a bright, early afternoon. She had only been asleep for a few hours. Enough that she no longer felt tired. Earlier she had been nodding off while Heron had started making plans with the hawk riders. He had sent her to get some sleep. It was embarrassing at the time, but Ivory was no longer thinking about that.

She walked along the stone walkways that ran between the buildings of the Eyrie, retracing the path she had walked earlier while half asleep. She passed by the stables where the hawks were kept, hearing the sounds of the big birds. Ivory still wanted to see them, but for the moment she had more pressing matters.

The hawk riders' war room was a simple affair. A room large enough for perhaps twenty to thirty people to stand in, with a large table in the center for them to stand around. There were no maps tacked up on the walls but instead, over the table, floated a representation of the mountain and the lands around it, painted in light.

It was an amazing thing, and, since she had first seen it, Ivory had wanted to climb up on the table and take it apart. It was obviously in need of repair.

At the moment she could hardly see it for the people gathered around it. "I need to talk to Heron," Ivory said loudly, over the sound of all the other talking.

The room quieted a little, and people moved about, opening up a space between her and Heron.

He looked at her, head canted to the side, the question obvious in his body language.

"I need to speak with you, now."

"Just a moment please," Heron told the people around him, and then he started walking towards Ivory.

Some of the hawk riders looked amused, others looked upset. Ivory did not care for the moment, but she did note the people who looked amused - Always good to know which adults would give you a break.

Heron walked over to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and directed her from the room, out into the compound. They walked, not far from the war room, to a small, walled area that looked down on the town. He looked around and then asked, "What is it?"

"This mountain is gonna to fall out of the sky, crash into a city, and tear a hole all the way into the underworld."

Ivory was not sure how she expected Heron to react to that, but she was a little surprised when he nodded and said, "That makes sense."

"What do you mean it makes sense?"

"You dreamed this?" he asked, not answering her question.

"Yes, but…"

"What about the watch?"

Ivory frowned as she brought forth the watch. She opened it up, staring at the gears within. The stars, as she had begun to see them for, were still a mystery to her, but, certain as to what was going to happen, she thought she saw familiar patterns. However, that was not really enough. She let it collapse back into itself and said, "I really don't know."

"Good enough."

"What did you mean when you said 'that makes sense'?"

"That woman I talked to, what she told me, it all seemed so unbelievable. And she should have realised that. I could see it in her eyes. Whoever this necromancer is, he has had a powerful effect on the minds of those people. They simply believe what he says, no matter that it is not believable."

"Just like what you are doin' to those hawk riders," Ivory said, and then blushed. It was not, she thought, a kind thing to say.

Heron did not seem to take it that way. "Pretty much, but, on a much larger scale. Which speaks of a great deal of power." He was silent for a moment and then added, "It scares me."

Ivory was glad to hear that, and she nodded. "It scares me too!"

"So, this is going to happen soon, we know that. It's going to fall on a city?"

"Yes."

"Do you know which one?"

Ivory said nothing for a moment as she tried to remember her dream. She pictured the people she had seen on the street, trying to remember something about them. Instead she remembered the roar she had heard. "There was a waterfall," she finally said.

"Greyfalls," Heron told her.

Ivory nodded after a moment. That made sense.

Heron turned and strode back the way he had come, his long strides taking him towards the war room.

Ivory stood there for several seconds, staring at his back. She then had to run to catch up.

Heron walked into the war room, pushed his way through the people, until he stood at the table. Ivory stepped up onto a stool so she could see what was happening.

The beautiful man slapped his hand against the table, the sound on flesh on wood echoing through the room. The hawk riders stared at him, Ivory could see they were confused. She was confused.

"Do you trust me?" Heron demanded.

The confusion grew. The oldest there, the one named Torvin, said, "We trust you as much as we can."

"And how much is that?" he demanded, and before anyone could answer, he continued, "Have I not helped you, your people? Fought your enemies? Discovered their secrets?"

"That is true," Torvin said, sounding uncertain, but around him other hawk riders were nodding.

There was magic in his words, Ivory thought. She could feel the gravity in what he said.

"This necromancer has to be stopped. He is a threat to your home and people. He rallies your enemies against you."

Hawkriders were nodding, some calling out in agreement with what Heron was saying. Even Torvin was nodding openly. Ivory looked around and spotted the young hawkrider who had been in her room, the one with the blood of the dragons. There was some confusion in his face, as if he was not certain about what was being said.

"Do you agree that he is a threat that must be dealt with before he destroys you?"

There were calls of agreement, even the dragonblooded hawk riders were nodding. How amazingly powerful his words are, Ivory thought. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she watched Heron. Her prince. How truly amazing.

"We will deal with this necromancer and his plans, no matter the cost!" Heron shouted.

Many of the hawk riders shouted back in agreement. None looked as if they doubted him.

"Then let us swear we will do whatever it takes to stop this necromancer's plans for this mountain. That none will interfere with this." Heron held out his hand towards Torvin. The old man reached forward and grasped Heron's hand. Heron met the gazes of other hawkriders, and they reached in to put their hands on Torvin's and Heron's. Soon every Hawkrider was gathered in close, reaching to touch hands where they could, grasping others firmly about the shoulders when they could not.

"Whatever it takes to stop this Necromancer who calls himself Veradun from realising his plans in respect to this mountain."

"Agreed," the hawk riders almost yelled as one.

Ivory was trembling; she felt both frightened and amazed at the same time.

"Whatever the cost."

"Agreed!"

"And none shall hinder me in this."

"Agreed!"

Ivory had to put her hands over her ears.

"Then," Heron said, his voice filling the room, "let heaven witness and bind this oath and may any who break it know heaven's punishment!"

Heron was surrounded by an aura of golden light which licked around him like a fire. The hawk riders gasped in surprise, many stumbling back, as if Heron's anima had a palpable force. Some even reached for their weapons. More than one said, "Anathema."

Heron stood where he was and met the gazes of the men and women around him, seeming to seek out those who were about to draw weapons.

He seems so terrible, Ivory thought.

Then, surrounded by golden light, he smiled.

It was the smile that always made Ivory's heart beat so fast and she could never stay angry at him.

Apparently it had a similar effect on the hawk riders.

"You face a truly great threat," Heron told them. "I'm perhaps one of the best allies you could have, at least the best that is here at this moment. So, keeping him mind that heaven itself will enforce the oath you swore, let's work together and stop this being called Veradun."

It should not have worked, Ivory thought. Their fear of Anathema, so long monsters of legend, should have made it impossible.

But it did.

They were, Ivory could tell, newly wary of him, but they were not overly afraid, and they accepted what he said.

"Let's get to work," Heron said, still smiling.

Ivory stepped down from the stool and left the war room.

In the place where she and Heron had spoken not long before she sat down on the railing and took the watch from her clothing. Holding it by the chain, she watched as it spun lazily.

"What are you thinking about?" Hu asked her.

Ivory looked towards the tiger, not particularly surprised by his sudden appearance, having almost grown used to it. "The watch. How it predicts the future. I had a dream," she told him, "this mountain is gonna to be used to crush a city."

Hu nodded.

"I guess that's why the watch directed me an' Heron here. I wonder who made it?" She gave the chain a jerk, causing the watch to bounce up. "I'm not even sure I should have it," she told the tiger.

"Who should have it then?"

That was, Ivory thought, a good question. "Not anyone from the 'maculate order, that's for sure," Ivory said. Not that long ago she would not have even thought about saying something like that, but she had changed a great deal. "Guess not any one from the Isle," she added. Of course, were her mother to ask for it, Ivory was pretty certain that she would give it over. Just for a kind smile. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Stupid thing to think, she told herself.

For some reason she thought about Maddie, but only for a moment for her attention was drawn back to the watch. "I wonder where else it'll take me?"


	23. Before the Battle

It was, when Heron thought about it, terrifying at how easily people would trust him. None of the people in the room had known him yet a day, and he had revealed himself as, to their eyes, a demon. And yet they had put all that aside and they listened to him as if he were an old friend.

Plans were made, runners were sent off, and every moment that passed their unease faded. He smiled easily, laughed at appropriate times, and convinced them that he would bring them through everything safely.

He stared at the projection of the Metagalpa and wondered how the mountain was going to be used to crush Greyfalls. How would it be moved? He could not conceive how a mountain, even one that flew, might be shifted.

There was noise from outside. A moment later a young man entered the war room. "We found some of the zombies," he called out, breathlessly. "They're in the old number 8 mine."

"We'll need to deal with them," Torvin said, and he looked towards Heron.

Heron knew that look, had expected it really. He had told them that he could help them. Now he was going to have to deliver on that.

Not that he minded.

"Show me where this mine is," Heron said, smiling.

"Faster to fly," someone said.

"Can your hawks fly two?" he asked them as he reached for his coat.

"Not well," Torvin admitted.

"Do you have a spare mount?"

The Hawkriders looked at one another, some appearing nervous. It was Torvin who asked, "Do you think you could fly one?"

His tone made it obvious that he doubted that Heron could, as well as hoping that was the fact.

Heron smiled. "I think I'll manage."

For a moment Heron thought that they might refuse, but only a moment. They almost relaxed as one, and several nodded. "Then let's go. Old Pag was killed not long ago. His hawk is without a rider," Torvin told him.

"You do me a great honour," he said sincerely.

They left the war room, Torvin calling out various orders. Several hawk riders would go with them, most would continue their patrols. Heron could see that most of them wanted to come; a chance to do battle and a chance to see what their new ally could do.

While they were not actually arguing, there was a spirited discussion going on.

"Where are you going?" Ivory asked from his side.

He looked down at her and told her, "Seems some zombies have been found hiding in an old mine. I'm going to get rid of them and get a better feeling for our enemies."

"I'll come," Ivory stated.

"No," Heron said.

"But…"

"No," Heron cut her off, "I don't want anyone to know what you are capable of yet. Understand?"

"I suppose," Ivory said moodily.

"And I want you to think about how you would move a mountain," he said softly. "And then how you would stop someone from moving it. You're the smart one."

He could see that pleasure at the praise was mixing with displeasure at not being allowed to go on the most immediate adventure. Finally she nodded. "Okay."

"Good." He smiled and placed a hand on her head, messing her hair up a little. "Stay out of trouble." He stepped away from Ivory and walked towards where Torvin and the others stood; the details of who would go having finally been worked out.

Old Pag's hawk was named Steel Spear, probably because of the colour of her feathers. It had taken Heron only a few seconds to win the giant hawk's trust; to the amazement of the Hawkriders. And it had only taken him a few minutes to master the techniques required to ride an aerial mount.

They flew down the slopes of the mountain, skimming close to the surface, as they made their way to the base. The old mines were dug into a cleft at the bottom of a sheer drop. Likely the miners had descended on ropes when they had worked the mines.

The hawks landed, one at a time, the riders dismounting and then sending the birds back into the sky. Heron was the second to land. He slipped from Steel Spear and then ordered the hawk back into flight. As the wing beats ruffled his hair and clothing he turned and walked towards the mines.

"Wait, we should go in together," Torvin called out to him.

"No," Heron said, not looking back. "I'll take care of this myself. Follow, but don't get involved. You deserve to see what I bring to this fight." He took the flame pieces from his belt.

There were three mine shafts carved into the stone, the mouth of each twenty or thirty paces apart. He walked along the wall of stone, looking at each of the entrances. It was clear which one he wanted. There were fresh, obvious scratches around the stone of the middle shaft, and he could feel a breeze coming out of it; a breeze that carried a scent of something astringent and sweet.

It was dark inside. Heron let his caste mark shine, the blindingly bright beam illuminating the rough, stone walls, and the smooth stone floor. He did not hesitate but simply moved forward.

The mine was simple. One passage, carved into the mountain. No side paths. The breeze he had felt grew stronger, the air fresher, but tinged with the odd scent he had smelt at the mouth of the cave. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling the rough stone. What sort of work was it to hack it from the mountain? And the miners, large, heavy men, no chance of becoming the true elite of Metagalpa, but involved in vital, back breaking labour. Did they resent it?

He decided it was not the best time to dwell on the social strata of Metagalpa.

The passage way suddenly opened into a large chamber, the walls glimmering dimly in the light of his anima, remnants of whatever metal the miners had dug down there for. There was a pit near the center of the chamber. Heron was pretty certain that the breeze he felt rose from it.

He crossed the floor to stand on the edge of the pit. He stared down into open air. It was a hole through the underside of the mountain, and it looked freshly cut.

"Brilliant," he said.

He looked up at the sound of a rasp of flesh on stone. Moving from the shadowy side of the chamber came the form of a giant. Ten feet tall, at least, with shoulders almost as broad, grey skin, covered in stitches, the smell of funerary herbs thick on it.

It made no utterance as it approached, moving with deceptive speed as its long legs carried it towards Heron.

As it closed Heron could see that its mouth had been sewn shut. As it reached for him he saw that its eyelids had been removed and it stared, unblinking, with eyes that were a washed out grey.

He ducked to the side and shot it with both of his flame pieces, setting the dry skin burning. Apparently unfeeling, it turned to grab at him. Heron dropped to the ground, drove a kick into its ankle, shin, and then kneecap. It had little effect beyond upsetting the burning giant's balance. That was enough for Heron, who swept its legs and tripped it so it fell back into the open hole.

He wondered if anyone would see the dead giant as it fell, burning all the way to the ground.

Springing to his feet he turned towards the far side of the cavern where other of the giants came.

Flame pieces away he called his plasma tongue repeaters to his hands. A double blast from each pistol finished off one of the giants, blowing flesh from bones, leaving bones charred and burnt. It was, he reflected, ducking under an attack, an odd looking skeleton.

He did not have much time to consider that oddness. The giants, dead through they were, seemed much more intelligent that their usual ilk. Having seen what his weapons could do they were doing their best to make themselves more difficult targets as they swarmed him.

He got one with a snap shot, sending it staggering into the pit and a fall. He crushed the wrist of another between the butts of his pistols. Rolling with a kick that would have snapped his spine had it connected he dismissed the pistols as he reached into his coat and drew his beamkalive. Angry essence spat from the hilt and he slashed deep into the kicking zombie's leg, chopping it off just above the knee. Knowing a good thing when he had it, Heron ducked his head and charged forward, slamming his shoulder into the giant's hip.

Another went into the pit and plummeted from the underside of the mountain.

He looked towards the entrance to the chamber, saw the hawkriders, watching.

Running forward he leapt at another giant, his foot driving into its chest, not even staggering it. He let his body drop, his heel dragging along grey, dry flesh. When it hit the hip bone he flexed his leg, pulled himself in close, and then sprung up and over the giant, using bone as stable spot.

He let go of his beamklaive and his pistols where in his hands. He emptied both barrels into the giant's face and then let his leap carry him behind it. Twisting in the air, he landed and Banished his pistols before slamming all of his weight against the giant's back, sending it towards the hawkriders. "Take it," he called, and then reached out to grab his falling beamklaive.

He had showed them that he could fight on his own. Now he was going to show them that he could fight with them.

If the hawkriders were surprised by their sudden inclusion in the battle they did not let it slow them much. They came forward, a well trained, organized group, and took the giant down, cutting and dropping back, flanking and confusing it.

Heron called out orders as he moved throughout the chamber, slashing and cutting, providing openings for the hawkriders.

It ended with the last giant held pinned by the spears of two hawk riders as Torvin cut its head from its shoulders with a sweep of his sword.

Heron stood over the body of one he had killed several seconds before. Beside him were the hawk riders who had helped him bring it down.

No one said anything for several seconds. Heron examined the men around him. They were hurt, but the injuries were minor, cuts and bruises mostly. That suited his purpose. He did not want them to think the coming battle would be too easy--even with his help.

"What are these things?" one of the hawkriders asked, using his spear to prod at the body of the dead giant.

Heron walked over to the charred skeleton of the one he had earlier killed. He knelt down to take a closer look at it. It took him several seconds to make sense of what he was seeing. It was not the skeleton of a giant, but a skeleton constructed out of many bones, skilfully melded together, wrapped with black wire.

"That's a little disturbing," Heron said softly, and then he stood and looked towards Torvin. "Are there a lot of mines around the lower level of the mountains?" he asked.

"Hundreds."

"How easy to check them all out?"

"Not very."

"Looks like they were going to bolt some heavy hooks into the ceiling, use that to lower this cage," one of the hawk riders, an older woman called Perpan, had moved to the far side of the chamber. "They got coils of," she paused, "guess it's rope." Her tone held a tone of distaste.

"Pulled directly up from under the mountain. We might've missed this," Torvin said to Heron.

"Now we know what to look for."

"Haltans got all those birds to act as cover," a hawk rider said.

"They can't cover the cages and the entire length of the lift cable," Heron told them all. "And if they manage to get up here, they are on the lowest part of the mountain. They'll have a long climb ahead of them before they can offer any sort of threat." He smiled then. "Their entire plan relied on surprise and misdirection. They don't have either of those any longer. They don't have a chance."

It was not the best speech that Heron had ever given, but it served well enough.

The afternoon stretched long amongst those on and around Mount Metagalpa. The hawkriders and other residents hunted out the hiding places of the zombies. There was much to search and little time left, and only one other nest of the giants were found.

Heron flew around the mountain, getting a feel for the terrain. Getting a feel for the people.

Ivory found an area sheltered from the wind, but catching the afternoon light, and sat there, the watch open in front of her, seeking out the answers Heron had asked for.

Far below the Haltan forces moved into positions, preparing for the battle.

In hidden caverns the death knights and their servants prepared their master's plan.

All of them knew that the setting sun would bring battle.

Truth gently took a giant, death's head hawkmoth from the killing jar. Such a beautiful creature, he thought, holding the body of the large insect in his hands. Such wonderful bodies, hardly touched by the rot of death.

Like a lepidopterist he laid the body on a block of white velvet and with soul steel pins gently fixed it in place, careful of its wings. Then he took a spool of soul steel wire, finer than the hair of a child, and gently slid the wire into the body of the dead moth and through its wings. When he was finished he snipped the wire from the spool and then took the pins from the body.

Picking it up, holding it gently, he whispered secret words over its body. The soul steel he had woven into it moaned softly and the tiny body quickened in his hands with the necrotic power of the underworld. The dead insect stood, folded its wings, and its tiny eyes stared at Truth.

"Go," Truth said, and he lifted his hands.

The moth took off, flapping its wings as it flew into the chamber beyond Truth's workroom. From it he heard the thrum of wings as the others greeted the newcomer. He smiled at that sound, and then reached into the killing jar for another of the moths.

Long shadows stretched across the land as the sun dipped below the mountain range. Haltan infantry moved across the broken ground, moving from cover to cover, watchers calling out if there were any sign of the hawk riders. Many soldiers carried birds with them, some just trained and some intelligent enough to be fellow soldiers in their own right.

As they reached their staging areas they hid and waited.

Looking somewhat upset the agata climbed from the cave. It looked about, it's beautiful, jewelled eyes glittered in the remaining sunlight. It spread its wings and then vibrated them, the soft hum echoing in cave behind it, sounding like a musical instrument.

From the cave came a louder, answering hum.

Sitting on a high outcrop, the hawk Steel Spear perched nearby, Heron prepared his plasma tongue repeaters, making certain they were ready. High up as he was he still sat in sunlight, but he knew that the land below was cast in shadows.

He snapped the cylinder of a pistol closed and spun it, moving it close to his ear so that he might hear the slightest catch.

"Fight's coming soon," he told Steel Spear.

The hawk cried out in what Heron assumed was agreement.

When the sun had started to set Ivory had returned to the room she had been earlier slept in. She sat at plain table, a lamp burning brightly. Scattered in front of her were several sheets of paper on which were sketched out various plans on how one would go about moving a mountain.

A number of pages were marked with lines that crossed through the notes. It was not that those plans would not work; in fact most of them would work extremely well. It was just that they required a great deal of power, and as far as Ivory could figure, anyone with that much power would not be wasting time with obfuscated plans within plans.

She spread the remaining plans in front of her. Which seemed most likely, she wondered. And how was she going to stop it?

Faded Maiden sat upon the stony shelf in front of a cave, watching the darkness grow. Her scythe handle tucked between her knees, she ran a sharpening stone of gray jade over the soul steel blade. End of Blood was the name of the Scythe. As she drew the stone precisely along the edge the steel moaned softly. It, the scythe, had been given to her by her master.

Sometimes she wondered at the name.

Not often.

From below her she heard the sound of buzzing.

Behind her, in the cave, she heard the sound of fluttering.

It was almost time.

Courtesan stood atop of high shard of stone. She stared down at the broken bodies of the dead giants. Burnt and cut, something had killed them quite well.

She wondered if Walker knew that there was a fighter that powerful on the mountain?

Rightly she should tell Faded Maiden.

However, since finding the bodies she had not done so.

After all, would not that suggest that she, Courtesan, somehow doubted their Master's ability to plan for all contingencies? Not saying anything just showed how much she trusted Walker.

She smiled as she leapt from the stone.

The flying mountain had called Dreaming Blue. Where else would it, whatever 'it' was, happen? Her gut instincts tended to be good, but they had failed her before. But, it was a flying mountain. There was a great weight of causality there.

She had scouted the area out, finding Haltans around. No real surprise there. The Haltans had been planning on doing something about their raiding neighbours for a while. She did not think it was anything that should concern her greatly. However it bothered her.

Perhaps tomorrow she would take a closer look at what they were up to.


	24. Battle of Metagalpa

The first basket descended quickly from the mountain. The Haltan commando force had clambered into it and had been pulled halfway up before the first hawk riders spotted them. As the giant hawks came flying in, a cloud of birds and other creatures of the air took wing from the basket to confound the hawk riders and their mounts and keep them from getting too close.

The cage was almost to the mountain when Silver Fingers, surrounded by the flames of her anima, swooped in. The birds could not get close to her and she flew at the cable on which the cage was suspended. Her blade lashed out to cut the cord, but the cable was made of stern stuff and resisted her attempt. She swung around to make another attack, but had to abort her manoeuvre as she came under arrow fire.

She had her hawk dive down, then had it come up, right below the cage, out of the angle of any archers. Passing close her sword cut out at the cage, breaking it open, spilling several Haltans out into a long drop. Continuing up, too fast for the archers to draw a bead on her – even if they were not desperately trying to keep from falling out of the cage – she slashed again at the cord.

This time it broke.

She had no time to celebrate, for above her the giant zombies began to hurl heavy rocks down at her and she had to flee.

The agata perched on rocks, their jewelled, scintillating wings seeming to glow in the wan moon and starlight. There were nearly a hundred of the demons, called up over the past few weeks. Faded Maiden had claimed the largest as her steed and sat astride it, End of Blood tucked in close. The other riders were superior dead for the most part, nemesarries in the bodies of the recently dead, some in war bodies made of steel and bone.

Truth was close, standing beside Mountain Breaker.

"We're ready," she called to him.

"Very well, then let's begin."

He called for his assistants. They came, carrying the harpoons and the soul steel chains that had come with Faded Maiden. With the help of three other men Truth fitted one of the harpoons into a bracket recently mounted on the fingers of the giant arm. That in place they then hooked the chain into a ring behind the head of the harpoon.

"We are ready," Truth said as he placed his hand on the arm. The skin on his brow darkened , as if bruised. "Stand clear!" He called and a moment later he stepped away.

As the workers moved back the arm began to twitch, shifting back and forth in a clumsy looking flop. The shoulder end anchored itself to the ground with bone spurs, and its movements grew more frenzied, larger, and it began to flop back and forth, causing the ground to shudder with each fall.

As it began to bend and flex at the elbow its moves grew larger still, and began to smooth out. Soon it was moving fast, spinning around in a great circle, nearly a blur.

Then it extended itself fully, the bones creaking, the soul steel moaning, and the harpoon was released. It sped away, flying high and fast, the length of chain whipping out behind it in a deadly arc.

The arm hit the ground with a crash.

The workers and Truth rushed forward to load a new harpoon.

Soon another harpoon was sent on its way, and then, sooner still, a third as Truth and his team became more practiced.

As the fourth harpoon sped away Faded Maiden saw Courtesan approach. For a moment she thought to call her over, to demand that she account for herself. However there were more important things to focus on so she chose to ignore her.

Eventually the final harpoon was launched. The giant arm lay on the ground, twitching, like some exhausted animal.

Truth looked to her.

She nodded at him.

He walked across the stony ground, to the mouth of a cave. He stood there for a time, doing nothing. A moth fluttered out of the cave, past his head, and climbed into the air. Then another moth, then five, then more than she could quickly count, all flying from the cave and climbing. Then suddenly there were so many of the moths that Truth was lost in the cloud of them.

They rose from the cave like thick smoke, rising into the air in a vast column. She could hear their wing beats, feel the air that they displaced. Countless moths rose up and flew towards the far off mountain, following the path that harpoons had earlier taken.

The cloud emerging from the cave began to thin, and once more she could see Truth. She was certain he was smiling.

Faded Maiden lifted her scythe. "For Lord Walker," she called out in a soft, but carrying voice.

The dead lifted their arms in salute, repeating "For Lord Walker."

She directed her agata to take off. It sprung up, its wings beating, following after the moths.

Behind her she heard her host following, the buzzing of the agata wings filling the night.

The Haltan commandos moved along the lower paths of the mountain. It was not long before they came up to a sheer cliff; the lift that had once allowed miners to ascend and descend long since gone. It might have proven a time consuming obstacle to the team, but for two of the members. Each of them a large spider, as intelligent as the human soldiers. Each spider took a rope with it and went up the sheer wall in short order. Not long after the rest of the team had made it up as well.

A small gibbon, another team member, went off on point as the rest of the team moved along the more travelled path.

They were ready to strike against an enemy that had for too long been beyond their reach.

"I think I heard something," Unnan said to the others.

"You're always hearing something," Panta told him. He was looking up into the dark sky, hoping for sight of a hawk flying by. "Real fight will be in the air I bet."

"I think Unnan is right," Ophel said. She skipped up on top of a boulder, staring down the slope.

Nar, with agility, followed her up as well. "Yeah, they said that some might get up on the mountain."

"To the lower paths. How do you expect them to get up here?"

"They could climb Unnan said."

"Even a good climber would take a long time."

"I think I see something," Ophel said.

Panta started up towards where she and Nar stood, when suddenly Misha screamed. He spun and felt as if his stomach had turned to ice. A spider, easily the size of a large dog, had leapt atop Misha and had ripped her throat out.

He stood frozen in shock and fear, unable to do anything but stare.

Above him something flashed by, and Ophel, spear leading, landed on the spider, driving spear-point through it as she landed on it, her bare feet breaking its carapace.

"We're under attack!" Nar cried out.

Someone sent up one of the flares.

Panta simply stared at Misha's dead body.

Portus rode upon his hawk, whistling and calling, leading a group of birdmen behind him.

Already some Haltans had made it up from the lowest part of the mountains and already there had been several attacks on guard units. Below him was one such unit.

"There," he called out, wheeling above the group's position.

The birdmen, with their sharp eyes, picked out enemy from ally, and hurled the javelins they carried in their foot claws.

Attacked from above the Haltans' advance broke, the surviving members of the guard unit rallied and turned on their attackers.

High above Portus whistled and called for another attack and the birdmen sent another spread of javelins down at the enemy.

Heron flew where he was needed and fought as required. The Haltans, he noted, were doing fairly well. They were much better trained than Metagalpa's militia. Even the hawk riders were not quite up to the skill of the Haltan commandos: though their command of the sky and their hawks made up for that and lent them a very real advantage. It was possible that the Haltans might even succeed in taking the mountain.

He did not think they would have been able to hold it, even if they had gotten the chance.

He climbed high above the battle field, looking down at the mountain, seeing several more signals go up.

The battle was down there, but he was certain that it was not down there that he should be looking.

Still, he had to live up to the promises he had made.

He sent Steal Spear diving back down towards the battle.

Near the peak of the mountain the harpoons had fallen, each one burrowing deep into the rock, locking itself in place with steel spines that had grown from the harpoon head.

Draped down the slopes from the harpoons were the soul steel chains, long lines of metal, waiting.

A moth, wings beating rapidly, spun down towards one of the chains, to one of the specific links. As it alighted a thin hook of soul steel, extending from its abdomen, hooked onto the link and bonded.

Each link and each moth carried mated steel, made from the same soul. Brought together it made moth part of the chain, as if that was the way it had been forged.

More moths descended from the sky, each making its way unerringly to a specific link.

Eventually each chain was covered in moths, thousands and thousands of them.

On one chain, almost completely covered with moths, all of the animated insects began to beat their wings, as if some critical mass had been reached. The magic that animated them made them stronger than any living moth might be, and the chain rose, pulled up into the air until reached if full extension and stopped, the weight of the mountain on the other end.

The moths continued to beat their wings, but no longer was it a simple flutter to achieve flight. Now the beats were to some mysterious pattern, a strange drone, like a whisper. This whisper vibrated down the length of the chain, into the head of the harpoon, and out into the stone through the spines that anchored it.

The whispers of death spread out through the stone, and pulled from the very rock its corrupted strength, which flowed up the chain into the moths, making them stronger.

Other chains began to rise and the process grew in scope.

The moths became stronger as aspects of the mountain became weaker.

Around the peak a great weight of certainty was quickly changing.

The mountain had moved.

Ivory was certain of it.

It had not moved very much, but it was significant, and Ivory had no doubt it was just the start of things.

She grabbed the watch and then ran from the room, out into the courtyard of the hawk rider's compound. There was almost no one around, for all the riders had flown out to battle. She suddenly found herself running back and forth in the courtyard, unsure of what to do.

She stopped herself and took a deep breath. 'Think,' she told herself. She turned and ran into one of the buildings, coming out a few seconds later with a handful of signal flares. She ran to an open space, planted the flare on the ground and then ignited it with a bit of flint and stone.

With a soft 'whump' the flare sent a packet of burning reagents up into the air where high above they exploded into a cloud if bright, burning sparks. She had sent up two more flares before a hawk and its rider came into the compound.

"What is it?" the woman asked, looking about for the enemy.

"I need to see Heron," Ivory told her.

"What?"

"Get me Heron!" Ivory snapped, stamping her foot.

"I don't have time for this girl! Those flares are not toys! If I had time I'd tan your hide."

Ivory moved closer, reached out and grabbed the riding harness, and said, with all the command she muster, "Get me Heron, now."

She did not have Heron's ability to manipulate people, but she was the child of Dynasts and chosen of the Unconquered Sun, and more importantly, not that she knew it, she had a tiger standing behind her that was staring into eyes of both rider and hawk, fangs bared.

"I'll get Heron right now," the woman said, stammering.

"Good," Ivory said, and released the harness.

As hawk launched itself into the air, beating its wings in what almost looked like panic, Ivory decided she was pretty good at motivating people.

"It's moving?" Heron asked.

Ivory nodded. "Just a little so far, but I've felt the mountain shift six times now." She paused. "Seven."

"I felt that," Heron said.

"They are lasting longer."

"How?"

Ivory shook her head.

"They have us looking down, so maybe it is time to look upwards." He canted his head back and stared up into the darkness. "Brass, Chevar," he called out to the hawk riders with him, "we're going up, to the mountain top."

"The mountain top?" Chevar said.

"A little recon," he said. "Fast flight. We'll be back before anyone misses us."

"Do you think we'll find anything?" Brass asked him. He was a young man, not someone who had seen much battle yet. Good flyer, but his nervousness was going to get him killed, Heron thought.

"Won't know until we look." He turned towards Ivory. "If you discover anything else…"

"I'll send up a signal," she told him.

"Let's go," he said.

The two hawk riders followed him to where their hawks waited. Heron climbed onto Steel Spear and urged the hawk into flight. Powerful wing beats launched Steel Spear into the air, sending hawk and rider speeding upwards. Heron looked back, saw Brass and Chevar following, turned forward, looked up towards the sky. There was no moon that night, and the night was cloudy enough to obscure many of the stars. If there was something up there it would be well hidden in the darkness.

"What do you expect to find?" Brass called out as he urged his hawk even with Heron's mount.

"No idea. We'll see when we arrive."

Brass looked worried.

From one of his coat pockets Heron removed a small twist of paper which he put between his teeth. He took his flamewand from the sheath across his back and tucked it securely under his arm. The twist of paper he took from his teeth, tore it open, and carefully poured the powder within into the weapons breach.

"Be ready," he called out, then snapped the weapon up, pointed it skyward, and pulled the trigger.

It was not a cloud of roiling flame that shot forth from the barrel, but a thin streak of fire, like a red line drawn across black paper. Then, high above them, it flashed bright, like lightning. In that momentary burst of searing, white light, Heron saw his enemy.

There were giant insects, glittering in the blast of light, and riders, and above them something dark, an amorphous cloud of unknown.

"What is that?" he heard Chevar call.

The light winked out, leaving them in darkness.

"Monsters," Brass called back.

Heron ignored them, instead pulling out several flares. He snapped them against the butt of his flamewand and then hurled them out into the air around them. The clever Metagalpaian designs lit up brightly, flight vanes popping out to slow their descent.

In the light of the flares Heron saw one of the giant, glittering insects diving down at them. What was on the back of the beast he was not sure, but it looked to him like a skeleton made of steel. "Watch out!" Heron said as he heeled Steal Spear into a wing over that had the bird dropping rapidly. Chevar dove his mount down, but Brass was too slow to respond.

The insect riding skeleton flashed by Brash, blades slashing rider, the insect's sword like stinger stabbing deep into the hawk.

Both screamed.

Heron heard something soft, whispering on the wind, and lifted his flame wand, holding it by the still hot barrel and sweeping it out in a wide arc. There was a snapping sound as something was knocked away, and a deep crunch of breaking wood. The stock of his weapon was impaled by a steel shafted arrow, the black metal of the arrow head moaning softly.

"Fall back," Heron ordered, and sent Steel Spear into a nearly vertical dive.

Chevar followed; the insect rider did not, nor did any more arrows pursue them

"What happened?" Chevar demanded a short time later as they finally slowed in their flight.

"Go," Heron told him, "send out signals. I want all the hawk riders gathered at the eyrie as soon as possible."

"Yes sir," Chevar said, and, not asking any other questions, flew off to do as he was told.

"Agata," Ivory told Heron.

"Agata?"

"Demon wasps. How many did you say there were?"

"Over a hundred, perhaps two hundred."

That surprised Ivory. "That's a lot of demons."

"And dead riders."

"Dead?"

"I'm fairly certain of it," Heron told her. "Not simple minded zombies, but something more powerful."

"What were they doing?"

Heron said nothing for several seconds; his pretty face was marred by a frown of concentration. "They are protecting something."

"Whatever is causing the mountain to move? It's moving faster now. I can tell."

Heron nodded. "We'll find out soon enough. Get ready."

"Ready?"

"I want you there. Do you have any ideas how to stop this yet?"

Ivory hesitated before answering, "Not really. I guess I'll have to see it."

"I thought so." He looked off to the side. "Hawk riders are returning."

"I'll get my things," Ivory told Heron, and ran off.

Packed away amongst the saddle bags and bed rolls were Ivory's swords and her breast plate. She quickly pulled on the armour, locked the catches, and then reached for her swords.

"You must be careful," Hu told her.

She looked to the tiger and nodded as she put the sword belt around herself. "Guess you won't be able to help me if I'm on a hawk." She paused, fastening the belt, "I wonder if I'll get my own."

"I'll be as close as I can manage," the tiger told her.

Ivory nodded, smiled, to reassure Hu that everything would be alright, then turned and ran back to Heron.

By the time she arrived in the courtyard a large number of hawk riders had already gathered, their huge hawks perched on buildings and walls, watching like curious spectators. Heron was already talking to them and Ivory approached just in time to hear one of the riders say, "…we'll be leaving the lower parts of the mountain undefended."

"The lower parts of the mountain do no matter at this point," Heron said. "Right now your mountain is being moved, and I doubt any of you believe that it is in your best interest to let it continue."

"But how could anyone move a mountain?"

"I don't know," Heron told him, and he turned his head so the breeze caught his long hair, "but you know as well as I do that it is moving."

The old hawk rider, the one named Torvin said, "How do you expect to stop it?"

"By fighting," Heron told him.

It was, Ivory could tell, a good answer. These people understood fighting.

The mountain shuddered slightly as it picked up speed. Everyone felt it.

"As soon as everyone has arrived we'll leave," Torvin said.

"Good." Heron looked over at Ivory. "Arrange for a rider to carry the girl. She is coming with us."

A number of the hawk riders expressed surprise at that, but Heron did not let them argue. "She comes with us. Who can keep her safest?"

Ivory moved closer, feeling that as the topic of discussion she deserved some say. "What about that air aspect," she said. "Looked light enough that both me and him can't be that much of a burden."

"Air aspect?" Heron asked.

"Temal," Torvin told him. "He was put in charge of keeping an eye on the young girl."

"Ready to grab a hostage if necessary?" Heron smiled.

"No," Ivory said.

"That was my thinking, yes." Torvin told Heron.

"What?" Ivory demanded.

"I understand," Heron said.

They're not even paying attention to me, Ivory thought, feeling angry.

"I'll get things ready," Torvin told Heron.

"I would not've let myself been taken hostage," Ivory told Heron. I'm not helpless, she wanted him to understand.

"I'm sure you wouldn't have," he replied, his tone distracted, his attention on what was going on around them.

Ivory frowned, opened her mouth, then closed it and sighed. He was too focused on other things to pay much attention to her.

"Stupid Heron," she said quietly.


	25. Green Fire on the Mountain

Around her the agata buzzed, above her was the surprisingly loud flutter of millions of moths' wings. Faded Maiden looked about in the darkness, at her army, ensuring all was ready. The escape of the hawk riders earlier was galling, and she had been upset at Courtesan for letting the riders escape, but Courtesan had seemed surprised that her arrows had failed to kill the enemy.

Now it was almost certain that the hawk riders would come in numbers. She had known it was going to happen, but she had hoped for a little more time. The Million Wings were just beginning to get the mountain moving. Nothing could be allowed to interrupt their progress.

One of the dead drifted near, called out in a whispery voice, pointed down.

The hawk riders were coming.

"Prepare for battle," she yelled out. "Nothing threatens our master's work."

Ivory craned her neck as she clung to the riding harness of the hawk, trying to see up into the darkness, for the enemy that Heron said awaited them.

"Sit still," Temal told her.

"I'm not moving that much," Ivory told him, shifting about to look back at him.

"I said sit still."

"If you weren't telling me to sit still I wouldn't have to move to look at you," she responded.

"Just sit still," he nearly yelled.

"Stupid," Ivory said softly as she turned her attention back to the sky. The darkness seemed so complete. At the back of her head was a tickle of an idea, that darkness should not block her from seeing what was up there, but before she could give it more thought her attention was taken by a flare of bright light.

"What's that?" Ivory asked of Temal.

"Flares, to light the sky," he said, and then added, "sit still."

Ivory watched at the flares, mounted on arrow shafts, were fired up into the sky. They flew high, and then burned even brighter and hung high up in the sky.

"Why don't they fall?" Ivory asked.

"Ask the tharmautages that make them," Temal told her, sounding cross.

Ivory wanted to know more, but accepted that Temal did not know; or was really being childish in not telling her.

The bright light above them revealed nothing, and several seconds later another volley of arrows climbed into the sky to take their place above the first volley.

It was after the third volley had been fired that Ivory heard the pained scream of a hawk in the distance. Her stomach seemed to fall away as Temal had Silk Feathers roll and drop.

Heron urged Steal Spear to faster speeds as he drew his flame wand and pointed it into the sky. The incoming attacks were uncertain; he suspected that the foes above him were just firing blindly. Still, that could prove a problem to his hawk riders. They needed a better idea of the location of the enemy.

He fired a flare of his own, a ball of essence that burned as bright at the sun.

Hawk riders sent their arrows speeding up after his flare. The combined light that exploded across the sky finally revealed the enemy.

Orders were shouted out, simple signal flares fired to direct the attack. Heron drew his pistols from elsewhere and flew towards the heart of the enemy.

Bright lights exploded into existence around Courtesan, revealing her to the attackers, but also allowing her to clearly see them. She put two, steel shafted arrows to her string and fired down at the climbing hawk riders.

The arrows found their homes in the throats of two riders and she was already letting two more arrows fly.

Before they could find their targets a pillar of fire on hawk back interposed itself between the arrows and the targets that Courtesan had picked out. The vortex of flames caught the arrows and ripped them off course.

Courtesan cursed and dove towards the terrestrial, firing rapidly as she went.

Faded Maiden put herself between the million wings and the approaching enemy, for she could not let any harm come to the moths. The agata, their dead riders, courtesan and even herself were all just there to protect the moths; though she liked to think she was ultimately more important than the moths.

Her forces would take the battle to the hawk riders, and keep them away from the Million Wings.

Butterflies, or some similar insect, there had to be millions of them, Heron thought. All of them, pulling together on the cables that joined them to the mountain.

It was an amazing impossibility.

Amazing as it was, he had to destroy it.

The wings of butterflies were fragile, and they burned so easily.

Steal Spear beat her wings and drove up towards the cloud, under Heron's hand the giant hawk performed an aerial ballet that slipped them between enemy and avoided attacks. In the mere space of several heart beats he had breached the defensive lines and flew near the cloud insects.

Lifting his pistols, golden essence bleeding across the barrels, he pulled the triggers.

Gouts of flame spat forth from the pistols, each a vast, roiling mass of plasma aimed at the heart of the cloud.

They never reached it.

Glittering in the light, an agata appeared, upon its back a woman in long, flowing robes, in her hands a scythe.

Heron watched, amazed, as she cut about herself with the scythe, the blade intercepting the clouds of plasma, snuffing them out as if they were only wan candle flames.

Then her agata folded its wings and it and its rider dropped straight towards Heron.

Steel Spear powered up into an outside loop, allowing Heron to avoid the attack and drop himself in behind the agata.

Lifting his pistols he fired.

The agata jerked to a stop, spun about on its central axis, and the rider cut his attack as she had the previous ones. Then she was again speeding at him.

Damn, Heron thought.

"Wow!" Ivory exclaimed. "Look at all those moths!"

"Stop shifting around," Temal snapped.

Around them winds swirled to drive away the shuriken that the dead had hurled at them. Ivory felt it whip her hair, tear at her clothing, sting her bare skin with tiny ice crystals, but she was not really paying attention to that.

Moths.

Cables of metal.

Anchor points in the stone of the mountain.

It was like a poison, she thought.

They were poisoning the mountain, dragging its body to where they needed it. The mountain's god would not be able to fight.

How did she stop that?

She felt the world spin around her as the hawk looped away from some danger, or towards another, Ivory was not sure. She turned around on the hawk's back, much to Temal's distress, so she could look towards the moths.

Silver Fingers urged Six Luck Talon forward, speeding towards one of the vast chains.

As hawk passed she sliced out with her red, jade daikliave. Jade met soul steel, both metals screeched and screamed, and the soul steel moaned as if in pain. Silver Fingers felt her arm grow numb, and she almost lost her grip on the blade.

She felt the fire of her heart flow from her, and around her her anima dimmed. She almost fell from her hawk as an arrow slipped through the fading vortex of flame and grazed across her lightly armoured shoulder.

"No," she shouted, tightening her grip on her weapon. Her anima flared brightly again and she guided her hawk into a power climb. She would teach these demon borne corpses the wrath of the hawk riders.

However she would not attempt to cut the cable again.

Scythe and blade of essence met, the beam klaive flaring brightly as the soul steel blade moaned and shrieked. Heron nudged Steel Spear with his knee and she folded her wings and dropped. The agata rider followed, lashing out with her scythe, but Heron had his hawk cutting back behind the other rider with a tight turn and flip.

Presented with a perfect opening he cut out with his blade only to have it blocked, impossibly blocked, by the scythe. The counter from the agata rider almost opened his throat, and it was only by the slightest margin that he turned the blade.

He was a better rider than his opponent, but she commanded that scythe with skill, and no doubt charms, to cancel that advantage.

He and the hawk rolled and powered away from the enemy rider and she did not follow.

She refused to leave the cloud of insects undefended, allowing him to escape each and every time.

He should be able to use that to his advantage, but he had no idea how.

"Let try it again, maybe it will work this time," he called out to Steel Spear.

The hawk screamed and rolled back towards the cloud.

Torvin hurled his javelin a moment before he pulled his mount out of the power dive. Javelin plunged through both dead rider and demon mount, sending both crashing to the mountain. Around him the dead and the hawk riders fought and died; if the dead could die. The old hawk rider screamed with his hawk as he sped towards another battle.

Oogan was a huge man, well over six feet tall, heavily built. If he were not blessed by the dragons he would never have been able to become a hawk rider. And even with the blessings it had taken him years of hard work to master the charms that that large Earth aspect needed to aid his hawk.

As he and Mountain Wing crashed bodily through a group of the dead, the weight of both hawk and man smashing the enemy, he was never so glad of the time he had invested to become one of Metagalpa's elite.

Portus flew high into the air, and then sped down towards the battle. In both hands he whirled weighted bolas. The weapons spun faster and faster, until they were a whistling blur. Just before his hawk pulled up he released the bolas. Both spun onwards on their deadly course, to wrap around the wings of the enemy mounts and crush their carapaces.

The Nemissary known as Rust that Strengthens Steel leapt from the back of his agata, his body of bone and soul steel crashing down upon one of the hawk riders and the woman's mount. His articulated, spiked toes curled down, sliding through flesh, giving him a solid stance on the back of the hawk.

The hawk rider tried to defend herself, but she was a moment too slow. He wrapped his razor bedecked fingers around her throat and opened flesh and muscle, sending blood splashing down upon specked feathers.

Leaping from the hawk he landed once more upon his agata.

Temal had three agata chasing him. The riders where firing arrows at him as they closed, trying to box him in so they might slash at him and Silk Feathers with their swords.

"Go down," he heard Ivory yell over the sound of the wind.

He ignored her as he looked about for a way out.

"Go down," she yelled again, shifting about to hit him across his thigh.

"I can't afford to lose altitude," he yelled back at her, panic making his tone strident.

"Fly down to the mountain top," she told him.

He swore loudly and then sent the hawk diving towards the mountain top. "You better know what you are asking for." How desperate he had become.

The Agata followed, gaining speed as they dove. It was looking worse and worse for him.

He pulled out of his dive only a man's height from the rocky and broken surface of the mountain's pinnacle. He sought out obstacles, flying around them, hoping the giant wasps and their riders might crash. However the wasps' precise, dainty flight gave them a huge advantage.

Temal only saw it out of the corner of his eye, on the edge of his vision. Something large sprung from the shadows.

"Up," he heard Ivory shout.

Silk Feathers rose quickly, snapping up into a power climb. Temal looked over his shoulder.

One of the agata had been driven to the ground by some great beast and, even as Temal watched, the beast was leaping from the fallen wasp, high into the air, tearing at another of the agata, ripping open its carapace.

Suddenly he was only facing two agata, and one of those was wounded.

As Silk Feather's went into an outside loop, as Temal felt gravity fall away, he took his chakram and hurled them down at the agata and their riders.

"What was that?" he demanded of Ivory as Silk Feather rolled up right. Below him the bodies of the agata fell.

"A friend," Ivory said. "He can't fly, but if you can bring them close of the mountain he can get them."

That, Temal thought, changed the shape of the battlefield to one that was more favourable.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

"You will fail," Faded Maiden spat as she pushed her scythe against the beam klaive.

It was not the first time she and the Solar, and she knew he was a cursed Solar, had been pressed so close together, blade to blade, as their mounts tumbled and tore at each other. She so wanted to follow him all the way down, to kill him, but she would not leave the Million Wings undefended. Having to retreat every time they met gave the damnable Solar an advantage.

She bared her teeth and again stated, "You will fail!"

His sword began to move, being pushed back towards him. She smiled and redoubled her efforts.

He was smiling.

Faded Maiden's eyes dropped down to the sword, the sword that he was only holding in one hand.

In his other hand was a golden, plasma tongue repeater.

Had he shot her Faded Maiden was fairly certain that she could have stopped the attack.

Instead he shot the agata she rode on.

The billowing flames shrivelled the demons delicate wings and the heat cracked the demons bejewelled carapace.

Faded Maiden willed the demon to remain aloft.

Her will was not enough.

She and the agata dropped like heavy rocks.

Above her the Solar and his hawk flew, unmolested, up towards Million Wings.

"No," Faded Maiden shouted and leapt from the back of the stricken agata.

Behind her her cloak furled out like a pair of wings.

Heron and Steel Spear sped up towards the cloud of flying insects. In his hands Heron's plasma tongue repeaters were like living things, spitting out clouds of flame. Agata and their dead riders fell from the sky, burning like stars as they plummeted.

His hands blurred as he reloaded the weapons, closing on the cloud.

Time to put this to an end, he thought, lifting his weapons.

A moment before he fired Steel Spear suddenly veered sharply.

Heron looked to the side and saw the woman who he had shot out of the sky, borne aloft by a pair of great wings on her back, closing rapidly.

"Oh, come on," Heron said as he blocked the descending scythe in the cross of the pistol barrels.

We're going to win, Courtesan thought, though there was no joy in it.

The hawk riders were much better at aerial combat than the dead on their demon steeds, but there had been more dead, and neither the dead nor the demons were growing tired.

Already the mountain was moving at a good speed.

That speed would only grow faster.

She loosed another arrow, watched as a stricken rider fell from the back of his hawk.

Walker was going to win.

She fired again, then dove to avoid a close confrontation with the angry fire aspect.

If only she could be more like Faded Maiden, to care so much about Walker.

But the whispered voices she heard in her mind did not belong to Walker in Darkness.

Ivory looked about, wondering how they were going to win.

The hawk below her was getting tired, she was certain of that. Temal did not seem tired at all, but he was chosen of the dragons. She knew she was not feeling very tired, doubted that Heron was. Still, they fought the tireless dead.

Ivory had once sat enthralled as a cousin had told of the fall of Thorns. The dead did not grow tired. Ever.

We're going to fail, she thought.

It was so unfair.

She had given up so much.

She had given up so much, it occurred to her, but hadn't she received much in return?

Closing her eyes Ivory thought back on the dream of long ago, of running through a home that was not quite right, and of all that she had learned.

Chewing on her lip she thought about one room she had seen in that dream; of a tarnished brass stature of a pretty and terrible man with four arms and a cruel smile.

Her eyes snapped open and her caste mark began to glow.

"Use that flare Heron gave you," she said.

"What?" Temal yelled.

"Use that flare!"

She heard a hiss as the flare was lit, and saw the blossom of yellow and blue light as Temal tossed it away.

"Fly steady," Ivory told him, her voice certain and hard as she sifted through the thousands of names of demons for the one she needed.

The far off flare almost cost Heron his life for it proved a distraction. It was only the speed of Steel Spear that kept him from ending up impaled on a scythe blade. As the hawk rolled away from the woman with her wings and scythe Heron was looking at the yellow and blue flare that burned in the sky below him.

Ivory had decided on a course of action.

When a few seconds later her anima burst into full flare, the ribbons of golden light spinning around her he knew that whatever she planned it was not going to be subtle.

From within his coat he brought forth a flare of his own and lit it up, tossing it into the sky.

It exploded into a white and red star burst.

The signal for retreat.

As the white and red start burst exploded in the sky Torvin turned his exhausted hawk away from the battle. He was as tired as his hawk, covered in sweat, his heart thundering in his chest. His hands shook as he brought out a retreat flare and tossed it into the sky, wanting to be certain all the riders would flee.

Faded Maiden watched as the hawk riders fled.

She had beaten them.

Or was it a trick.

She wanted to give chase to the Solar, to end his life, but perhaps that was just what he wanted her to try.

She was seized with indecision for several moments, looking around.

The blossoming of golden light made her wary, but she would not leave the Million Wings. She called out to several of the dead around her and ordered them to investigate.

Oogan and Rust that Strengthens Steel battled on the back of Mountain Wing, Rust that Strengthens Steel's agata flew about, trying to attack the huge hawk when it could. Oogan had seen the retreat flares go up, knew it was time to run. However he had seen this dead creature of bone and steel kill a number of his fellow hawk riders, and he was not about to run before getting vengeance.

He wrapped his arms around the body of the dead creature, his stony skin turning the razor sharp barbs of metal.

"Fly Mountain Wing," he ordered, then leapt from his mount to crash onto the agata. As terrestrial, dead, and demon fell, Oogan crushed the body in his arms, his anima growing more destructive as he began to shred the ghost whose body he held.

Courtesan saw the golden anima flare into existence far away.

She had been fighting the fire aspect, and had been about to give chase, when the golden light caught her attention.

The whispers of the Neverborn grew stronger, for they hated the golden anima of the Solars.

Courtesan cruelly hauled her agata around and sent is charging across the sky as she drew arrow after arrow, firing them at the light.

Temal was blinded by the sudden golden light that surrounded him. He cursed as he blinked his eyes rapidly in an attempt to chase away the white blobs that swam across his vision. "Stupid girl," he shouted.

The girl was mumbling softly, apparently unaware of his anger.

Temal wanted to shake her, but recalled that she had told him fly steady. He did not know what she planned, but the safety of his home might depend on her.

How galling that was.

An arrow sliced across his shoulder, splitting the jade pauldron and cutting to the bone.

He hissed in pain and rolled Silk Feathers to the left as several other arrows passed through the space he had just been.

The girl yelled at him to fly steady.

He might have yelled something back at her, but he was not thinking much about that. He had hurled his chakram into the air, intercepting some of the arrows in the air, deflecting them. Some of them at least.

Ivory tried to ignore the pitching and yawing of the hawk as she concentrated on her spell.

She was calling up prodigious amounts of essence, feeding it into the spell matrix she was constructing.

All she needed was a few more seconds.

Heron watched as one of the agata riders sped towards the hawk that Ivory rode upon.

Cursing he swung Steel Feathers around and charged back, hoping to help her.

Faded Maiden watched Courtesan's charge. Finally the woman was doing something useful.

Courtesan found her quiver empty of her steel shafted arrows, but it did not matter. She drew arrows crystallised out of her essence and the Neverborn's unending hate and sent them at her target. Her actions took on an almost frenzied aspect as within the golden light a spark of green appeared.

Ivory opened her eyes which had changed from gold to green and she drew her hands apart, a cat's cradle of golden light twisting in on itself, darkening into a glowing green as she spoke a word, a name, one long since forgotten by almost all but the most focused scholars.

In her hands appeared a perfect sphere of unwholesome green flame.

She tossed into the air, as if she were urging a bird into flight.

As it fell towards the mountain she called out, "Run!"

Temal had felt several of the arrows graze him during the flight, and one had pierced his thigh, through into Silk Feathers. The hawk had cried out in pain, but had continued to fly strong.

When the girl tossed the green flame away and then told him to run he did not question her.

"Go Silk Feathers, fly!"

His hawk sped away, as if fresh from the eyrie rather than having fought in a long battle.

Courtesan cursed as her target fled and green light dropped towards the mountain. She screamed as the whispers in her mind spat anger and despair.

Faded Maiden knew, knew with painful certainty that that green ball of flame was failure. She shouted denial as she flew as fast as she might, in hopes that she might stop it.

She was too late.

Heron saw what Ivory did. He turned Steel Spear about and flew off, not looking back, urging the hawk to fly faster even as he used essence to boost its speed.

The flaming ball hit the top of the mountain and flared with a light almost as bright as the sun.

The expanding pillar of light tore down into the mountain, like a volcano in reverse, carving a crater hundreds and hundreds of yards straight through the rock, blowing the top of Metagalpa to dust. It also rose into the sky, and dead, agata and the Million Wings could not stand against it. All were destroyed utterly by the green light that continued to rise until it was miles high and the green light stained the dome of the sky.

As Ivory clung to Silk Feathers she thought she heard mad laughter into the echo of the spell's thunderous detonation.

She prayed that it was not her own.

Courtesan once more dragged her agata about, but this time she fled the expanding pillar of destruction instead of charging into battle.

Faded Maiden screamed at the green light even as it washed over her, destroying all that she wore and flaying her skin from her bones. But even as it destroyed her body she healed the damage. As she fell through the green light she screamed in pain and anger and fruitless denial as the fire continued to burn her and her body continued to mend itself in a manner that she could only think of as torture.

Standing on the lower slopes of the Mountain Dreaming Blue watched as the sky was turned green by a column of unholy fire. "By the maidens," she whispered as the mountain trembled.

Mount Metagalpa trembled in the sky as it slowed, its forward momentum failing.

Deep within it the mountain's god cried in pain, cried for the nurturing embrace of Pasiap.

And Pasiap, for the first time in centuries, turned attention to the wayward mountain.

Metagalpa began to fall.


	26. After the Fall

Strange, spell generated winds whipped through the skies, making flying difficult for the giant hawks. The riders, scattered, stared dumfounded at the destruction at the top of Metagalpa. They had won, but the cost was becoming apparent.

Silk Feathers was one of the closest hawks to the mountain, having fled last. Temal fought to keep the hawk's flight steady as he stared back.

"What have you done?" he asked the girl who sat in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding near tears. "I'm sorry."

Temal was not certain if she was apologizing to him, but he still asked, "What did you do?"

"The mountain is going to fall," she told him. Her voice was suddenly flat, strange.

"Fall?" he asked, and felt stupid for saying it.

He turned his head to look back at the mountain, as if he might see it falling.

That saved him.

The woman with the bow, on the demon wasp, having survived the blast, was once more charging across the sky at him, firing arrows.

"Down," he yelled as he threw his chakram into the air, towards the arrows, as Silk Feathers, obedient, dropped.

"Stop shifting around," he screamed at the girl as he felt her moving.

Why couldn't this just end? He wondered, holding tight to the hawk, preparing more chakram.

Ivory ignored Temal's shouts and she craned her head around to look behind them.

An arrow whispered by, close enough that she felt a breeze.

"Oh," she said, and began casting a simple spell. Her anima was already burning brightly, and she had spent almost all her essence, but she had a little left yet.

The wild flight of the hawk did not even faze her. She felt so tired and sad; it was a concentration of exhaustion. The only thing that almost ruined the spell was a yawn she had to suppress.

With her hands she formed the mudra of victory.

The agata resisted, but for a moment.

Then it disappeared in a flash of green flame.

Courtesan felt as if she would be driven mad by the whispers in her mind, the whispers of such focused hatred. There were tears in her eyes as she fired shot after shot. Blood ran down her face from her caste mark. Around her was a dark aura of necrotic energy.

When her mount disappeared she screamed. Screamed as she fell. Screamed, fell, and yet still put arrow to bow string to fire.

Temal did not ask the girl if she had made the wasp disappear. He turned towards her, suddenly angry. "Why didn't you just do that before?"

"Banish hundreds of agata?"

She sounded as if she were considering just how to do that.

"What did you do to my home?" he demanded. "Why?"

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft. She sounded tired.

He did not know what to say, did not know if he should be angry.

Then an arrow ripped up from under him, cut through Silk Feathers' wing, and then into his chest.

Both man and hawk screamed as the hawk began to tumble out of control.

Temal bit his teeth against the pain, pulled on the flying harness, coughed blood.

The girl was screaming, or crying, she could have been laughing for all he knew. He was focused on regaining control of his flight. Of landing Silk Feathers safely. He had to save the hawk.

With agonizing slowness the hawk's flight steadied. It cried in pain with each wing beat, but it was no longer falling, though its flight was anything but steady.

They had fallen a long way. He was almost level with the bottom of the mountain. He recalled the cave where he and Torvin had sheltered the night he went out looking for the threat he had thought existed.

It seemed so long ago.

Carefully he urged his wounded mount onward as he felt his body grow cold and numb.

After what seemed an eternity Silk Feathers landed near the cave, the hawk's great body trembling as it collapsed.

He was thrown from the harness. He, a child of the winds, who had been born to ride a hawk, thrown from his harness. How amazing.

He hit the ground hard, not having the strength to break his fall, he rolled across the rough stone and came to a stop against the stone beside the cave.

The pain was fading and he knew that was not good.

He felt hands on him, small hands. Someone was crying. The girl. He wanted to be angry at her, but he had no strength for it. Then he wanted to tell a crying child that it was alright, but he had no strength for that.

Temal tried to smile, was not certain if he managed it.

He coughed blood and then died.

Ivory watched the life fade from the hawk rider and cried.

She had destroyed his home, his way of life, and she had not even managed to save him.

Maybe she really was some kind of monster.

Cradling the dead body of Temal as best she could, crying, was how Hu found her not long after.

She released her hold on Temal and wrapped her arms around Hu.

As she sobbed she kept saying, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

Fighting continued on Mount Metagalpa during the several hours it took to fall. The Haltans who did not die or flee ended up surrendering to Heron. He spoke to them, convinced them to lay down their weapons and give up.

The zombies would not give up. Not that anyone expected them to.

Finally Heron grew tired of it all. He flew on Steel Spear to a place where he could wait; wait for the mountain to hit. He found a ledge about half way up the mountain, large enough for the hawk to rest safely, with rocky windbreak that both of them could shelter behind.

At first he sat with his back to the wind break, arms wrapped around his knees, his coat pulled tight around him. After a time he stood up and climbed up onto the rocks and stared down the side of the mountain.

Shortly before the sun rose the mountain descended into a thick bank of low lying cloud. It was as if he stood on the prow of a great ship as it rolled down a tall wave and then cut beneath the water. However, he thought as the thick fog rose up around him, dappling his long eye lashes with beads of moisture, this ship is not surfacing.

He did not see the mountain hit, for there was fog all around, but he certainly felt it. It was as if a strong earthquake occurred, shaking him, almost knocking him from where he stood. It lasted for almost a minute, and he could picture the base of the mountain, digging into the ground, pushing up new foothills in front of it, leaving a trail of destruction behind. Had anyone been beneath?

Steal Spear screamed in distress, and beat her wings to keep her balance. Heron felt the soft feathers of the wings brush against him.

The mountain shook.

Stones loosened by the impact went bouncing down slope. One the size of a clenched fist hit him in the shoulder and made him stumble forward a step.

Beneath his feet Heron could feel stone fracturing, with a crack like thunder.

Then it stopped.

He was not aware of how loud the impact had been until there was only silence ringing in his ears.

In time he could hear sounds coming up from the thick clouds around him, calls of people, made unintelligible by the distance, then the cry of the hawks, and other sounds of animals.

As the sun rose it burnt away the fog and Heron was able to stare down the mountain side again, to see the destruction he had helped wrought. He looked up at the sun, hoping for answers, but finding none.

He was still staring at the sun when Torvin found him.

The old hawk rider brought his hawk in, landing neatly beside Steal Spear. He slid from his mount, his movements were stiff, exhaustion pained him and the night had carved the lines in his face deeper still. He shuffled over to where Heron stood and slowly climbed the rocks.

"No one was killed in the crash," he said without preamble. "Few might die before the day is over, and a lot of buildings were damaged."

Heron nodded.

"When did you know this was going to happen?" Torvin asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Maybe since I came here. Ever since I spoke with your prisoner."

"Couldn't you have found another way?" he asked is a still flat tone.

Heron did not answer for a time, and then he said, "I don't know."

"What are we going to do?" Torvin asked, and the old man's tone was near tears.

Heron looked at him and smiled. "Send your fastest hawks to Greyfalls. Let them know what happened here, tell them that the dead were trying to drop a mountain on their city. Tell them that Metagalpa has fallen several days travel from them. Tell them that the people of Metagalpa will swear fealty to the city of Greyfalls and the Realm."

"Our freedom," he said, biting back the tears.

"What's that worth if you are dead? You've made a lot of enemies. Greyfalls will take you as honoured allies. You bring your hawks, your dragon bloods, and you give them an excuse to claim the land around the mountain and between here and Greyfalls."

Torvin nodded. "You have a point."

Heron smiled. "I would offer to negotiate for you, but…"

Torvin nodded. "Future allies might take offence if we send a demon."  
"Exactly."

"I want you to leave," Torvin said. "Before the sun is high I want you gone."

"Fair enough," Heron said. "I may be back one day, when I have need for you. I won't lie to you about that."

"Perhaps I'll be dead by then," Torvin answered.

"I hope not," Heron said and turned away from Torvin. "I'll leave Steel Spear in the eyrie."

"We'll take care of her for you."

"Thank you," Heron said without looking back.

Grace stood beside Cloud Hands, starting at the far off mountain.

It had not been there the night before when they had made camp.

"I heard the earth cry out just before the sun rose and the ground shook," Grace said.

Cloud Hands nodded. "I believe that we will find the Anathema, or traces of them, there."

Grace nodded, and smiled coldly. The Earth Aspect had, Cloud Hands noted, recovered well over the past few days, but her anger had only grown. That suited Cloud Hands well enough, for it meant that the other woman would remain on the hunt.

She was fairly certain that Anzar would continue the chase, unless of course his superiors were to order him away. Kohishi she was still not sure of; were a better opportunity to come along it was likely that he would leave. That left only Grace, who sought revenge, as a certainty.

Before that would have been a concern to Cloud Hands, for revenge was a dangerous thing. Now, it was a solid rock that she would build upon.

"Please, go and make sure the others are ready to leave," the abbess said.

Grace nodded and went to do as asked.

Soon, Cloud Hands thought, soon I will catch you pretty man, and we will end this chase.

Cold, glass smooth rock pressed against her back. High above her the rim of the crater glowed with the rising sun, but it would be a time before it was high enough to shine down on her. Faded Maiden lay naked, unmoving. Bone fragments had torn through the skin of her right thigh, the shattered ends of the snapped femur covered in dried blood. Her right arm was broken in several places, and folded back on itself. She was not sure how many ribs had snapped, just that every shallow breath was a burning pain.

Having survived a spell that was perhaps the most destructive force she had ever seen, she had ended up, without essence, almost dying in a fall.

The essence of the living world was useless to her. Her hearthstone had been shattered in the spell's green fire, the soul steel setting had melted away.

She suddenly wondered if that had freed the ghosts. Had they fallen into Oblivion or had they somehow entered the cycle of rebirth. Somewhere was the End of Blood reborn as a babe? Would she one day see a child and know that the soul had once been the steel of her weapon?

Such strange thoughts preyed upon her and made her wonder if she had suffered some sort of head injury.

Would Lord Walker come and rescue her? Or perhaps Truth? She did not expect Courtesan to come over that rim. Stupid woman likely got herself killed.

Likely it would be an enemy. If she was lucky it might be one of the people of Metagalpa. A whisper could trick them to leaning close, then she would strike. It would hurt, she knew that as a certainty, but as long as she could sink her teeth into live flesh she would be alright.

The pain would fade soon enough then.

She did not hope the beautiful Solar with the beam klaive would come. She knew she would not trick him. His blade would slash down on her, or he might even stay at the distance and use his plasma tongue repeaters. And then she would no longer be able to serve Lord Walker.

"Truth," she whispered, for it hurt to try to speak in a louder tone, "perhaps you will send one of your wonderful creations to see exactly what happened. Perhaps even now one of your clockwork raptors is winging its way back to you with news of what is has seen."

She closed her eyes and wondered if it was wrong that she wanted to stay alive.

Nihilistic Courtesan looked back at the mountain she had fallen down. After her agata had been banished, after she had fired the last spiteful arrows, she had hit the mountain. Her charms has kept her from being badly hurt by the fall, had helped her control her rapid descent afterwards.

She had been lucky in finding several of the giant dead, with their basket and cords of woven muscle and bone. They had lowered her from the falling mountain and then had descended themselves. They had followed her, knowing their previous reason for existence was over. She supposed it would not hurt to have such durable helpers along.

Along to where was the question.

She could go back to the staging area, find Truth.

That plan did not interest her much.

Returning to Walker in Darkness would be wise, but that did not interest her either.

In her thoughts was a girl, surrounded by golden light, releasing a spell that had destroyed everything. That girl, the voices in her head wanted that girl dead. Courtesan could not quite see the reason, but she knew the whispers would not let her rest if she did not seek the girl's death.

Perhaps she might resist those demands, if she wanted to, but she did not think she would.

Gently stroking her fingers along her bow she knew that were she the type to resist such things she likely would not be what she now was.

Still some time before noon, Heron and Ivory stood on a high plateau, looking back at once had been the flying mountain of Metagalpa.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Ivory asked.

Heron shook his head. "I give them a 4 in 10 chance of coming out of this well."

"That's not too bad," Ivory said.

"I'd never bet on odds like those."

Ivory frowned. "We did help them, didn't we?"

"We did far more to help Greyfalls than we did to help them. We destroyed their lives really."

Ivory shook her head. "No, we helped them. They're alive cause we saved them."

"I suspect that they could have saved themselves, once they knew it was time to abandon their home."

Ivory shook her head again. "No, we saved them," she said angrily.

Heron only shrugged his shoulders and turned towards Dragon.

"But we did save them!"

Heron stopped and looked back at her. He smiled sadly. "It is important for you to believe that, isn't it?"

Ivory said nothing, and almost looked like she might cry. Before she could answer someone cried out.

They both looked towards the noise. Surprisingly close by was a woman lying on the ground, looking as if she had tripped. She was well dressed in a formal kimono, and her hair looked as if it had been recently styled, though the fall had thrown some of it into disarray.

Heron and Ivory looked back towards each other, then returned their gazes to the woman.

Dreaming Blue swore softly as she started getting to her feet. She stood, brushed at her clothing, and then looked between Heron and Ivory.

"Good morning," Heron said, eyebrows raised.

She nodded. "Yes, thank you," she said. "Well, I have to say you have caused a great deal of trouble. More than I would have expected."

"Pardon me?" Heron asked.

"I doubt that." She flicked her fingers, as if there were water on them. Her nails grew long, took on the colour of steel, reflecting a rainbow. She charged forward, tripping, but managing to use her fall to her advantage. Her knees slammed into the stone with a painful sounding 'thump', and she wrapped the fingers of her right hand around Ivory's throat. "Give me the watch!" she demanded.

The hammer of a plasma tongue repeater clicked back as Heron put the barrel of his weapon up against Dreaming Blue's skull.

Hu's jaws closed with surprising gentleness around Dreaming Blue's left shoulder; careful not to jar the woman's whose razor sharp fingernails were pressed against Ivory's slim throat.

"Give me the watch," Dreaming Blue demanded again, as if two very deadly creatures were not posed to kill her.

Ivory swallowed. A thin trail of blood ran down her throat. "I don't have it anymore."

"Do not lie to me child," Dreaming Blue yelled, her fingers tightening around Ivory's throat. Then she winced as Hu, still not breaking skin, put enough pressure on her shoulder to cause the bones to creak.

"I'm not lying," Ivory yelled back at her. "I had it with me durin' the battle. I thought it could help. But it fell when I cast the spell, and it's gone now." Tears were running down Ivory's face. "I wanted to save it, but it was all too fast, and now it's gone and it's my fault."

Dreaming Blue stared at Ivory for several seconds, then released her hold on the girl. She stood suddenly, twisting away from Heron's weapon as she slammed an open palm into Hu, driving his jaws open to escape his hold.

Heron leapt away, his second plasma tongue repeater in his hand, both weapons pointed at Dreaming Blue. Hu had rolled with the blow, almost flipping completely upside down. He landed not far from Dreaming Blue, crouched and ready to attack. Ivory remained where she was, her hand at her throat, finger pressed against the small cut.

"You stupid children," Dreaming Blue said, her voice snappish. "You stupid, stupid fools. That watch was more valuable than you could ever know." She screamed the last. "Do you realise what you have done? Finally we were going to be able to see what was hidden, and you," she looked at Ivory, "treated it like it was toy and lost it!"

"I'm sorry," Ivory said, crying as she brought her hands to her eyes.

"Sorry? Sorry! You stupid, stupid girl? Sorry!" She turned and stalked away, tossing her hands up in the air, as if anger had robbed her of her voice. It would have been a very dramatic exit if she had not fallen some distance off.

Heron walked over and put a hand on Ivory's shoulder. His other hand still held a pistol, which was still pointed at the retreating Dreaming Blue's back. "Let's go," he said.

Ivory sniffed, wiped at her eyes, and then nodded.

It was hours later, hundreds of miles from Metagalpa, Heron and Ivory rode upon Dragon. Heron slowed Dragon's wind racing run to a more sedate gallop.

"Are you okay?" he asked Ivory.

She nodded.

"You were lying about the watch."

She nodded again.

"You might make a decent gambler eventually."

Ivory smiled sadly.

"Where is it?"

"I put it in Elsewhere."

"What do you think that woman meant; being able to see what was hidden?"

"It shows the future," Ivory said.

"I don't know. Something tells me there is more to it than that."

"I think," Ivory said, "someone was meant to go to Metagalpa. Not us maybe, but someone."

"Why do you think that?"

"Cause, it's like, well, the watch shows things that are big, I guess you could say, and fairly close. And Metagalpa falling, that was the biggest thing, had to be. What else could be bigger? Do you understand?"

"I think so," Heron told her. "I think I am beginning to see the big picture." He flicked the reins and Dragon began to pick up speed.

"Where are we going now?"

"To see how accurate my view of the big picture is."


	27. Epilogue

Epilogue 1 – The Sleeping Spider

The star metal, Grand Daiklaive was named the Sixth Graces of Heaven; however it acquired another name, among a select few, who called it the 'Tantrum Broom'. Though they never called it such where the blade's owner might hear.

Dreaming Blue was destroying her apartment.

She was sweeping the huge blade around her in a frenzy of anger.

A construct of glass and essence, dating back to the first age, shattered into a cloud of sparkling fragments as the blade cut through it.

A curio cabinet made of the rarest of eastern woods, given to her by a god currying favour, exploded into flinders.

Feathers from the mattress filled the air and rained down around her as the wooden frame cracked under a sword blow.

Dreaming Blue was working quite the head of steam, and was getting ready to turn the sword on the walls, when the blade stopped.

Staring wide eyed she looked at the old man who held her sword fast between thumb and forefinger.

"Redecorating?" the old man asked.

"Kejack-sama," she said, and that was all she managed, for suddenly she was without words.

Still holding her sword he looked about. "Sometimes you have to destroy things before you can rebuild them. Trying to keep the old things is troublesome. Once you've smashed it you have no choice but to change." He looked back at her and nodded.

"Yes Kejack-sama," she said.

He let go of her sword. Carefully she returned the daiklaive to its stand by the door.

Dreaming Blue stared at the sword for several seconds and then turned to face him. "I'm sorry. The Orrery of the Hidden Stars is gone. It was destroyed," her voice grew louder, more strident, "by that stupid child tossing about powers that she has no appreciation for! I mean, what was the Unconquered Sun thinking? A child!? To give that much power to a child! Of all the stupid…"

"I see," Chejop said, his calm voice cutting through Dreaming Blue's tirade and silencing her.

For several seconds she said nothing, and then, "I'm sorry Kejack-sama. I should be careful what I say."

He smiled, though it did not touch his eyes. "Perhaps you would walk with me for a time?"

"Of course," she said. After all, what else would she say?

Not waiting for her to say anything else he turned and walked from the apartment, out onto the streets of Yu-Shan. For a moment Dreaming Blue looked about her apartment, wondering if there was anything she should bring with her. Perhaps a cloak? She shook her head and chased out after Chejop, only slowing to close the door behind her.

It was dark in Yu-Shan, as if night had fallen, but the streets were full lit by a gibbous moon that cast light as if it were full. Luna was winning, she thought, lengthening her stride, careful not to trip herself up on the long hem of her kimono, and moving up beside Chejop.

He did not speak as they walked, and Dreaming Blue did not ask questions. Not far from her apartment he stepped onto a quay and then down into a waiting dragon boat. She followed and settled herself across from him.

The boat moved out into the canals, cutting across the silver waters and into the golden water at the center. A moment after it had slid into the golden lane the boat picked up speed, moving faster and faster, until the city along its banks passed like a blur.

It was not often that Dreaming Blue was able to travel on the golden lane of the canals, and when she did it was almost certain the river gods would demand to know why she did so.

Unsurprisingly no one questioned Chejop's reasons.

It did not take them long to reach the Most Perfect Lotus of Heavenly Design.

The dragon boat slid from the golden lane and decelerated rapidly as it approached a dock. Chejop said nothing as he climbed from the boat, he did not look back to see if she were following. He just started walking forwards.

She followed in silence as they traversed the Lotus, walking towards its center. There were many gods who sought to speak with Chejop, and a handful that approached Dreaming Blue, but as soon as any of them got close they seemed to realise it was not a good time. Dreaming Blue knew her expression was stony and suspected that Chejop's was similar.

They passed by the guardians at one of the entrances. Dreaming Blue nodded to one she recognised and the Celestial Lion dipped it head respectfully.

"The Solars," Chejop said as they passed through the doors, "are difficult."

"Yes Kejack-sama," she said.

He stopped and looked back at her curiously. "And for what reason do you agree?"

That question took her by surprise, for it was so obvious as to why she had agreed. "The vast power they control corrupts them and makes them different."

For a moment they stood in silence, then Chejop turned and continued on.

Feeling confused, Dreaming Blue followed, wondering that had been some kind of test, and if so whether she had passed it.

She followed after him, not really paying attention to where they were going, not really looking around. Why were the Solars so dangerous? Certainly, the child Ivory was, but she was a child. An adult would surely show more restraint.

Of course, as she had told Chejop, there was the very real danger of power corrupting. But could that power be properly controlled? Things were different then they been. And the pretty one with the plasma tongue repeaters had seemed controlled enough…

It was not that she did not notice Chejop stopping, it was more that, lost in her thoughts as she was, she did not connect it with herself, and was about to walk by before she recalled he had brought her there.

He was looking at her and under his scrutiny she suddenly felt as if she had done something wrong.

"The difficulty of the Solars is that it is easy to forget that they are primal forces beyond control. They let their words and actions blind you to the truth, and even when you see the truth, to still forgive them."

Dreaming Blue nodded.

Chejop turned and stepped forward into a small, balcony shrine that over looked part of the Loom. She followed, recognising the place at once: The Shrine of Dreamer.

Arranged on a kamidana was a pattern spider, larger than most of its kind, one of the August Weavers. It was almost completely still, but for small movements of its legs and mandibles. There were holes in its carapace, and many of its clockwork parts seemed to be missing.

Dreaming Blue stared at the spider for several seconds before finally saying, "No. It can't be. The Orrery of the Hidden Stars is destroyed. The Dreamer would…"

Chejop watched her, looking expectant.

"It's not destroyed," she said, in one quick burst. "She lied to me. She lied to me and I believed her."

"It would seem so."

"I'm sorry Kejack-sama, this is inexcusable of me, I will of course resign from this assignment and…"

"Do stop being so melodramatic. It is the nature of the Solars to make anyone believe what they say. I take it next time you are told the Orrery is not longer available that you will not accept that at face value."

His tone was mild, but Dreaming Blue felt as if she had been delivered a stinging rebuke. "Yes Kejack-sama."

"I am pleased to hear that. I looked forward to your retrieval of the Orrery. I believe that it will prove of some use in the coming times."

"I understand," she said, somewhat distracted. Her thoughts were on Peleps Ivory and what she was going to do to the girl when she put her hands on her again.

* * *

Epilogue 2 – An agent in Greyfalls

Tolsay Mnemon walked along the streets of Greyfalls, wondering at the strange sense of expectation within the city. He had only just arrived and was certain that something was up. Likely related to the Hawks, giant beasts, that he had seen flying over the city.

An invasion from Metagalpa, he wondered for a moment, then discounted it as far too unlikely.

He reached out and put a hand on the shoulder of a man and asked, "So, what's ya have happening here?" he asked, smiling as the man turned to face him.

The man blanched slightly, for Tolsay was in his full regalia. His hair was impressively spiked, his glasses reflecting the late afternoon light; he wore tight leather pants, and an open shirt. His beam klaives were worn obviously at his waist. He looked very much like the criminal lord he had once been.

"Uh," the man stammered, "the hawk riders, from Metagalpa…"

"Ya? What's about them? They attakin' ya?"

"No. No. They are here to ally with us."

"There mountain's a little far off."

"Uh, well," and the man looked a little embarrassed as he said, "they say it is closer, and, no longer flying."

"Ya?"

"That's what they say."

Tolsay nodded. "Hell of a thing I guess." He walked by the man, not looking back, deciding he would seek out someone more in the know.

That someone turned out to be a man named Jargeni Highbridge, the secretary of the Scarlet Majordomo. A man quite happy to entertain one of the Dragon Bloods, especially one who had brought several bottles of V'neef wine with him.

"I've heard," Jargeni said, as he poured himself a generous glass of the red, "that there were Anathema related in the mountains fall."

Tolsay said nothing, just gulped the wine down.

"And the Scarlett Major Domo was part of a Wyld Hunt that went after some Anathema," he said and then gulped down his own wine.

"Ya? How'd that go?"

"Well, not too well," he said, and reached for the bottle again. "Abbess Cloud Hands has not returned and seeks out the Anathema with only a few other Dragon Bloods." He filled his glass.

"So, these hawk riders wanna make an alliance?" He knocked back his wine in one swallow.

"That's what they say. Everything is in quite the state. The Scarlett Major Domo is planning a party tonight, to work out the details in a friendly manner."

"Ya? Those Anathema still around?"

"I would think not," Jargeni said. "With the Abbess and the other Dragon Blood chasing them? Likely they are dealt with by now."

"Who're these other Bloods?" Tolsay asked as he reached for another bottle.

"Oh, no one as important as the Abbess," Jargeni said. "There was Mnemon Grace, perhaps a relation of your Mnemon?"

"Who knows?" He yanked the cork from the wine bottle and refilled his glass.

"Ah yes. Such a large and respected family."

"Thanks." He topped up Jargeni's glass.

"And there was Ragara Anzar, who brought the news of Anathema."

Tolsay simply nodded and drank more wine, not showing any reaction to a name he had been seeking.

"Oh, and the young Cathak Kohishi. He was quite popular while here. A fine young man."

"Ya, don't give those Anathema much chance."

Jargeni nodded, and smiled sloppily.

A little more wine, and some drugs to make sure that Jargeni remembered little of this, and then Tolsay could leave.

It should not prove too hard to find the Abbess and her diminished Wyld Hunt.

* * *

Epilogue 3 – The Tigers of the Moon and the Shadow

Korwin watched the girl and the beautiful man set up a camp.

They showed little concern for the dangers that might be within the wild, empty land about them. It did not really surprise Korwin; those two had little reason to fear the common dangers that might be drawn to a fire or the smell of cooking food.

The body language between the two told him much. They treated each other well, almost as equals, but the man took a slightly condescending attitude towards the girl. And the girl was infatuated with the man. It was an interesting relationship, Korwin decided. Friends, but the gap of their ages had not yet been crossed.

It was the sort of fracture that one could exploit.

If Korwin cared to.

He did not.

In the end he was there to watch the girl.

Her presence had been like a sensation, not uncomfortable, but difficult to ignore. Ever since he had first felt it he had been drawn to learn more. He had sought out answers from his elders and they had only told him that the Solar his exaltation had once shared a bond with had been reborn. Forest of Jade Swords had told him to ignore it, 'Solars are bad news,' the old Lunar had told him. Pimana had told him to seek out the Solar, 'See what they are really like,' he had advised.

Korwin had tried to follow Forest of Jade Swords advice, for the stories he had heard of Solars had made them seem like cruel monsters. But in time the desire to learn more about the person who he shared a bond with had driven him to seek her out.

He had been surprised when, a few hours before, he had learned she was a girl. He had been following stories, and thought for sure that his bond would be with the beautiful woman--who had turned out to be a man anyway. But instead, as soon as he had set his gaze on them, he had known that the girl was the one he was tied to.

Which was somewhat disappointing.

Forest of Jade Swords had admitted, while several bottles drunk, that the sex could be good.

For a young man like Korwin that had been something of a draw.

Well, perhaps best that she was a child. Now that he had seen her, his interest satisfied, he could go off and continue with his own long term plans.

Perhaps in several years he might come and look for her again.

His ears shifted back, and he drew air through his open mouth. He was being stalked.

The tiger, he thought. He had heard that there was a tiger. A pet of one of the Solars he had assumed. He had been mildly amused to hear it, for the Tiger was his spirit shape.

No simple animal could have stalked so close to him without him noticing. As he turned in the thick underbrush and stalked towards the other tiger he knew that there was intelligence there.

Another Lunar?

No, he did not think so.

Then what?

He stepped out into a clearing, created by a giant of a tree that had fallen long years before.

The other tiger came out of the woods as well, stopping, staring across the space at him.

Korwin growled low in his throat, curious. Even an intelligent animal would like flee when presented with that threat. However the other tiger did not move; just stared at him.

"Who are you?" Korwin asked through vocalizations and body language.

"Why are you here Chosen of Luna?" the other tiger replied in kind.

Korwin examined the other tiger, sampling his scent, recalling stories he had heard, had read. "The child is my Solar mate," he finally answered.

"Stay away from her." There was hinted violence in every movement of the other tiger.

Were he in his human form Korwin might have smirked. "You are Kage Hu, the Second Warden."

The tiger growled.

"I know of you," Korwin said. "I know about you and the girl."

"That is not her."

"Close enough. And you should know me."

"You are not him."

"I was."

"I don't care."

"Then why seek out the girl," Korwin asked. "If she is not her, why seek her out?"

"Because," and Hu paused, "because she once was."

Korwin looked at Hu, honestly curious. "You are strange, Kage Hu."

Hu did not reply.

Korwin started stalking around the circle, moving to his left. Hu also stalked to his left, and they circled the clearing, always across from one another, until they had traded places.

"Watch over the girl, Kage Hu," Korwin told him.

Hu did not answer, but Korwin was not surprised. Kage Hu would watch over the girl no matter what he might say.

After a moment Korwin turned into the undergrowth and slid into the thick vegetation, leaving Hu behind. He had thought that seeing the girl would cool his interests, but the farther he went the more he thought about her, wondering what her future would hold, wondering if she might help him, if he might help her.

Forest of Jade Swords was right. Solars were bad news.

* * *

Epilogue 4 – The Tamers of the Wind*****

Around the Ice Tree were lands, blasted and cursed, broken chunks of ice and slides down into dark pits. For hundreds of years few people had ever gone there, but for a few brave Scavenger Lords and some barbarian whose tribes used the area as a test for future chiefs. Hungry ghosts and other dangers had haunted the area.

Then only a few months before that had changed. A pair of warriors had come to the Ice Tree. With sword and claw they had killed anything larger than a mouse that might be a threat to anyone. Then they had opened up a trail between the area and Icehome, two weeks travel away. With money and force of arms they had carved out a small hold of safety in the freezing wild of the North.

Ice Tree was a pillar made of first age materials, with large, cylindrical spars running perpendicular to the main structure. In the first age it had been a construction facility for flying ships. It was again, though the magitech wonders of that long ago time were no longer possible.

Instead advanced Halsanti air boats were built, taking shape in the construction cradles on the end of several of the spars.

One of those who had cleared the area, a young woman named Sparrow Hawk, stood upon the top of the Ice Tree, looking down. Cold wind whipped her hair and caused the ends of her fur lined cloak to snap loudly.

Two second class air boats were almost finished, and a third was coming along nicely. A much larger first class airboat was still little more than a keel and some frame, but with the resources being devoted to it Sparrow Hawk thought it would be completed soon enough.

She had stood up there for some time, watching the industrious and well paid workers rushing about to complete their work. A blizzard was coming in, would blow in before the sun set, and work would stop. Everyone would have to hold up in the central section of Ice Tree.

"Madam Hawk," someone said from behind her.

It was the site foreman, a man named Tar.

"Yes?" she asked, turning around.

He stood some distance from her.

Sparrow Hawk did not like people moving to deep into her personal space and almost everyone at the site had learned it.

One way or another.

"What is it?" she asked.

Tar bobbed his head in a hasty bow and said, "A rider from the caravan just arrived. Says that the rest of the wagons should be here tomorrow, if the blizzard doesn't last too long."

She nodded, then turned and stared out over the icy landscape. "Send a message to Lashang. Tell him if he and his tribe make sure that the caravan arrives safely that I will give him the axe of his grandfather."

"Yes Madam, right away."

She heard his footfalls as he began to walk away, then he stopped.

"What is it?" she asked, not looking back.

"I was just wondering; do you really have the axe of his grandfather?"

For a moment Sparrow Hawk considered telling him it was not his concern, but she saw no harm in assuaging his curiosity."I found an axe of some power. He'll happily say it belonged to his grandfather."

"I see." There was admiration in his tone.

Again she heard his footfalls as he walked away.

She stood there, as the cold wind that was the harbinger of the coming blizzard chapped her lips and cheeks. She was waiting.

Shortly after the first snowflakes began to fall she heard the call of a goose. Searching the cloudy, gray sky, it took her several seconds to spot the bright white form of the approaching snow goose. It made straight for the Ice Tree, soaring through the winds with ease. It landed with grace not far from where Sparrow Hawk stood.

A moment later the bird's body shifted like smoke and a woman stood in the bird's place.

"Welcome back Lightning," Sparrow Hawk said, smiling. "I was worried you weren't going to make it today."

Lightning stretched, her moonsliver tattoos flashing in the dull light of the overcast day. "Was fighting a massive headwind almost since I left the sea behind," she explained.

"I'm glad you're here. The caravan should arrive tomorrow."

"That's good," Lightning said, and moved close to Sparrow, smiling. "Do we need to be here?"

"Pardon?" Sparrow was a little off put by Lightning's proximity. She knew that Lightning was trying to help her, but it still was a difficult reminder.

"If we leave for a few weeks, will things fall apart here?"

Sparrow was curious as to why they might leave, but she gave the questions some thought. "Tar can handle most things here. And Lashang demands favours for anything he does for us, but he won't work against us. And everyone else around here is worried enough about our retaliation to try anything. Only real threat would be a Wyld Hunt, and there is no sign of them in the area."

"And the Halsanti?"

"They've been polite enough."

"So we can leave?"

"Yes," Sparrow Hawk nodded, "I think we can. Why?"

"Mount Metagalpa fell. The wind spirits are talking of nothing else."

"Oh," Sparrow Hawk said, and then her eyes widened and she said with much more gravity, "Oh."

"I see you understand. I want to know why a mountain that seemed happy enough to be flying for several centuries suddenly decided to fall."

"I agree."

"We'll take the Blade. No offence, but Blue Sky Lover is not fast enough."

Sparrow Hawk wanted to object, for Blue Sky Lover was one of the fastest airships based on the Halsanti designs. However, its speed could not compare to the first age ship she had Lightning had recovered. "How soon do you want to leave?"

"How soon can we leave?"

Sparrow looked to the sky. "Let's wait until after the blizzard has blown in. The workers will all be inside and no one will see us go."

Lightning nodded. "Sounds good."

***For Sparrow Hawk and Lightning's story see either the Freedom Stone forums or my Deviant Art Page**

Epilogue 5 – Amongst the Salt Wards

Jenka Ghost Hand stood in the ruins of what had once, probably, been a temple to the Sun. Most of the statues had been broken and destroyed by time, but upon the domed ceiling, rendered in still bright mosaic, was a representation of the Unconquered Sun. In Jenka's hand was a powerful lantern, the enriched whale oil burned hot and bright, pushing the shadows back almost to the walls.

In those shadows were things, ghosts mostly. He had left behind the salt wards that his thaumaturges had lain down; wards to aid in the excavation and exploration. There were hungry ghosts in the city, as well as other dead, but he was not afraid.

He turned in a wide circle, looking about the temple. Such paces often held great wealth, but he did not see anything that filled him with hope.

When he completed the circle the light fell upon a person standing right in front of him.

He yelled in shock, and almost dropped the lamp.

A moment later he recognised the man.

"Heron Jade Eyes?" What are you doing here?"

Or was it Heron? Perhaps a ghost that had taken his form? But no, no ghost would dare approach him.

"It's dangerous here," Jenka said. "The dead are restless and you should…"

Heron reached out and grabbed Jenka around the neck. He drove the man back. The lantern fell from Jenka's hands and smashed on the floor of the temple. The fuel within it went up with a 'whoosh', throwing chaotic light that caused the shadows to dance madly. He was driven back by Heron until his back hit a pillar.

He wanted to yell out, to demand an answer from Heron, to call for help, but the grip on his throat cut off his breath and voice.

"It is dangerous out here," Heron said, his voice cold, lacking the good natured warmth that Jenka remembered. "The dead are restless. I know. I've ended several. And yet here you are, without a weapon more than a knife. Why is that Jenka Ghost Hand?"

Jenka could say nothing, and gray began to creep in on the edges of his vision as the grip on his neck tightened.

Then Heron lessened his grip on Jenka's throat and with his free hand, grasped the glove on Jenka's left hand and tore it away.

In the shadows around them the ghosts moaned in fear and some fled.

Jenka's left hand was much paler than his right. Covered by the glove it saw little of the sun, and was of course cleaner, but there was something else. There was something unwholesome in the paleness of the hand.

Heron grabbed his left wrist and pulled Jenka's hand across his body. He squeezed the wrist hard enough that the bones creaked and the ends rubbed painfully together.

"Ghost Hand. It seems solid enough to me."

Jenka yelped in paid as something cracked in his wrist.

Heron shifted his grip to the hand, squeezing it as hard as he had squeezed the wrist.

Jenka was sure that his fingers were going to be crushed, but then he felt it shift in his palm, and Heron must have seen it, for the force of his grip relaxed.

On Jenka's palm one of the creases opened up, like a cut, but the red within looked nothing like blood. It was a tiny mouth that opened in his palm, brought forth by fear and pain. It made a sound, a mewling like a dying baby. A tiny tongue protruded from the mouth, tasting the air.

From the shadows around them came noise as more of the ghosts fled.

"The ghosts are afraid of it," Heron said. "Why?"

"It eats them," Jenka said, and with his right hand he reached for the dagger at his belt. He had to end this.

"So, you tread in the most haunted places, knowing the ghosts fear you, and any that don't you can simply feed to this." Heron again tightened his grip on Jenka's hand and both Jenka and the tiny mouth cried in pain. "Who gave it to you?"

Jenka yanked the dagger free of its sheath and stabbed it as Heron's gut.

Heron drove Jenka's own hand down, blocking the dagger, knocking it aside, and then drove his knee up into Jenka's groin.

Jenka eyes crossed as pain stole away even his ability to cry out, and the dagger fell from nerveless fingers.

"You son of a bitch," Jenka spat several seconds later, as tears streamed down from clenched eyes.

"How did you get that hand?" Heron demanded again and again, as Jenka writhed in pain, hardly able to concentrate.

Finally, with the pain fading, Jenka said, "I can't tell you. It would mean my life." He could feel his face wet with tears, spit and snot and felt both shamed and angered.

"If you don't tell me, it will mean your life."

The cutting, ice like coldness of that voice made Jenka look up, and he saw the golden mark glittering on Heron's brow. "Anath…"

Heron hurled Jenka hard to the ground, dropping his knee onto the prone man's chest. In his hand appeared a plasma tongue repeater made of orichalcum and red jade. He drove the barrel into Jenka's mouth, chipping and breaking teeth.

Jenka thought he was going to gag.

"I will not hear that word from the likes of you. Now tell me who gave you that hand?" He screamed the last and then pulled the weapon from Jenka's mouth.

"The Mask of Winters," Jenka said, though he had sworn to never give that information to anyone.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he said, and spat some of the blood filling his mouth onto his lips.

The barrel of the weapon pressed hard into his temple. "Not a good answer. What did he ask you to do?"

"To go to places, to find things long lost." Jenka had often wondered at his patron's requests, but had never questioned them.

"Did you give those things to Mask of Winters?"

"Lookshy bought most of them. Mask of Winters never wanted them."

"And he told you to get the watch."

"What?" Jenka asked, surprise distracting him from the pain.

Heron hit him across the face, the butt of the pistol in his hand adding weight of the fist. "He told you to get the watch."

"No," Jenka cried. "He said nothing of the watch. His messenger just told me to search well and leave nothing behind." He closed his eyes in anticipation of another blow, certain that Heron would hit him again, demand a better answer, but the blow never came. And then the weight on his chest was gone.

He opened his eyes. In the dying light of the broken lantern he saw Heron walking away.

Jenka got onto his knees, watched Heron, almost called out to him, wanting to know what had brought all this on to him, but he did not.

Better the demon leave.

If all it cost him was a beating that seemed a fair enough trade.

And he would have to tell Mask of Winters. But even as he thought that he suddenly feared what might happen if Heron were to learn of that. For the first time in years there was someone he feared as much as the Mask of Winters.

A pretty little gambler, with an easy smile and a delicious body.

The fuel of the lantern burned out, leaving him in darkness.

An Anathema who had walked through the ruins of a haunted city just to ask him a question.

He remained on the floor of the ancient temple, feeling the gaze of the Sun upon him, even if he could see nothing of the mosaic.

With his right hand he fumbled in the darkness, until his fingers closed over the hilt of his fallen dagger. He raised the blade and put it close to his throat.

If only I could be certain that I would not enter the underworld, Jenka thought.


	28. Preview Page

For those who might be watching, I have finished the second Exalted Story featuring these characters and will begin posting the chapters soon. I am including a very short preview in this as well.

I will also be posting these chapters on my Deviant Art page, so feel free to stop by and offer an comments (little easier to engage in a conversation there IMO) and you can check out other work that I have posted, much of it not FanFic, as well as attempts at drawing.

And I think someone asked about the Essence levels of various characters.

Essence 5: Heron Jade eyes and Ivory Peleps (Heron came by it honestly, he was exalted soon after the Jade Prison was broken)

Essence 4: Faded Maiden of the Tomb, Abbess Cloud Hands

Essence 3: Courtesan and most of the other Terrestrials

Onto the preview

Preview

To Stand Once More In The Sun

by Shawn Hagen

Prologue: The Seekers

Shattered and broken slabs of rock were thrust up on one side of the fallen mountain, forming a nearly impenetrable wall of debris and stone. And then behind it was a huge swath of land, ploughed nearly smooth by the Metagalpa's passage, littered with vast boulders; pieces of the mountain that had cascaded from its slopes.

It was, with little doubt, an impressive site. The flying mountain now rested once more upon the face of Creation, and in its fall it had wrought great destruction.

When she had first stared upon it Cloud Hands had not been certain what to think. Even with Grace's warning of the earth's cry of pain, the scope of the devastation was difficult to encompass.

Surely, she had thought when she first saw it, the Anathema are creatures of pure destruction.

It had been two days since the ground had shook. It had taken her wounded group of Terrestrials a day to cover the distance to the mountain and another to climb up the mountain's broken flanks.

And then she had found out that agents from Greyfalls were already there, subordinates and representatives of General Cathak Kitono mostly. It had been galling, in a way, and she felt that the Immaculate Faith should have been better represented. If the people of Metagalpa were to be brought into the faith then these first days would be the most important.

She had not the time to be concerned with such thing, unfortunately, for her hunt for the Anathema was far more important. And though the presence of the general's men bothered her, that did not stop her from making use of the military personnel; to get resupplied and to get an introduction to the leaders of Metagalpa, the hawk riders.

"I seek Anathema," she said simply, and without preamble, as soon as she met their leader, an old mortal named Torvin.

He nodded. "I think," he said, and his voice sounded tired, "that there was such among the dead that attacked us."

She frowned as she stared at the old man, sensing no duplicity on his part. "I see. I seek a man, said to be as beautiful as any comely woman, and a small girl."

"I did not see them amongst the dead that attacked us," he told her.

He was not lying to her, Cloud Hands thought, and yet, she was certain he was hiding something. "Are you certain?" she pushed, lending to her words the subtle current of essence.

Torvin stiffened, as if struck, and then said, carefully, as if picking his words with great care, "I am certain."

Cloud Hands angry outburst died stillborn as another in the room shouted out, "Enough!"

The woman who had yelled out was of average height and had the thin build of a hawk rider. In her anger the touch of the dragons was obvious, for her skin flushed a deep red and her eyes seemed to glow.

"Enough," the woman said again, striding forward.

"Silver Fingers," Torvin said, perhaps in an attempt to stop her from speaking, but his voice sounded tired and it was possible Silver Fingers did not hear it.

"The two Anathema were here. The beautiful man and the child. You can thank them for the fact that Greyfalls is not buried beneath this mountain, and we can thank them for the death of riders and hawks that saved your city."

Torvin sighed and slumped in his chair. It was as if he had suddenly aged several years.

Cloud Hands said nothing for a moment. Then, "I don't understand. You're angry that they led you in a fight against the dead? Led you to victory?"

"It was a fight we could not win. If not for them we would have evacuated," Silver Fingers told her.

And that was it, Cloud Hands thought. They cared not for Greyfalls or its people, but counted on both for their future safety. The old man Torvin did not seek to hide the fact they had fought alongside Anathema, but that the people of Metagalpa would have let Greyfalls be destroyed but for those Anathema.

"Where are they?" Cloud Hands asked Silver Fingers.

"They rode west, on a horse that ran faster than any hawk could fly."

She should stay and minister to these people. Who knew what the Anathemas' presence had done to them? But she could not stay, for she needed to hunt the man. Needed it with a desperation she still did not fully understand. It was what the Anathema's presence had done to her.

She said nothing to the hawk riders, just turned and walked away. She had no time for words now.

"What are you going to do now?" Silver Finger's asked; her tone of voice held a hint of worry.

"To hunt the Anathema and destroy them," she said. For a moment she thought to add something else, some suitable quote from the Immaculate Doctrine, to shame them for their actions, but she was not in the right frame of mind.

Ahead of her, waiting, were the others: Anzar, anxious for reasons of his own; Grace, whose desire for revenge would drive her; Kohishi, badly wounded but still looking for opportunity. The core of her Wyld Hunt. Hardly enough, but what she had.

"We head west," she said, "as fast as we can."


End file.
